


Kiss Me, Break Me, Love Me

by SymbioticAntithesis



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hopeful Ending, LiveJournal Meme, M/M, Oral Sex, Partner Betrayal, Romance, Unhealthy Relationships, modern AU - no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymbioticAntithesis/pseuds/SymbioticAntithesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was hopelessly in love with Hank and if being "the other guy" was the only way Alex could have him, even if it was for awhile, even if it was just a fallacy, then Alex would do what he could to keep his well-constructed fantasy.</p><p>From this prompt on livejournal: <i>Hank and Raven are married. Alex is his colleague at the office who he shags on the side. For whatever reasons he has, Hank has no intention of leaving Raven for Alex but he has no intention of stopping this "thing" he has with Alex either. Raven has no idea what's going on and Charles is the politically influential brother-in-law. Throw in as much angst as possible, bonus points for Scott being the disapproving yet supportive (in the sense of he does not like the emotionally destructive relationship Alex has gotten into, and not because he's homophobic) older brother. Ending up to writer anon. Surprise me.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss Me

**I. Kiss Me**

_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors_

_Boys Like Girls – Thunder_

~*+=

Alex Summers worked for Eisenhardt Enterprises. The company, owned by Erik Lehnsherr, was one of the leading corporations in clean energy after Stark Industries. Erik and Alex were more than just boss and subordinate; they were friends. And all of Erik's employees knew but none were stupid enough to accuse him of favoritism. Even if something did slip into the tabloids, Erik rarely cared about the gossip and the criticisms that came with being a well-known CEO in New York City.

He and Erik had known each other for a few years before Erik offered him a job at his company. Erik claimed that he was simply waiting for Alex to finish his Masters in geophysics, but Alex knew otherwise. The two men shared an affinity: they were both orphans with turbulent pasts, but they also rose up and refused to be beaten. "Stubborn mules" they had called themselves and Alex had to agree.

Granted, Alex still had his brothers while Erik was alone. Well, no longer alone. He had a company to run and a friend in Alex.

For three years, Alex dutifully researched, experimented, and recorded data for Eisenhardt. Then a new bioengineer was hired. He apparently used to teach bioengineering at NYU but wanted to focus more on research and application. On first impression, Henry McCoy was, well, _nerdy_ and a bit awkward. But he was definitely a genius. He had graduated Harvard at sixteen and had a Ph.D. by twenty-one. Alex wouldn't be surprised if McCoy had _multiple_ degrees.

Alex and McCoy had a relatively civil relationship. His mind was nowhere near the same level as McCoy's, but it didn't mean he couldn't understand the basic concepts McCoy would jabber on about. And Alex really didn't mind when McCoy ran his gob; it meant that McCoy was passionate about something, and if there was one thing that Alex admired in someone, it was passion. It didn't really matter what kind of passion it was, but if someone truly loved something and wasn't afraid to admit it, Alex appreciated the fact that they embraced themselves for who they were.

And, Alex would have to admit he liked watching McCoy in his excitement. His eyes lit up, he'd smile widely, and he'd gesticulate with his hands. Everything about McCoy was entrancing; bright blue eyes, a warm smile, a lean but muscular frame, high cheekbones, and dexterous hands. He wouldn't deny that McCoy was a gorgeous man.

But he had an equally gorgeous wife. She was charming, smart, snarky, and bold. He was a bit surprised at the contrast between McCoy and his wife. And resentful. She was everything Alex wasn't and his attraction to McCoy didn't help the underlying jealously he felt the few times he saw them together.

It didn't matter. It _shouldn't_ matter. So he did his best to push it aside.

Several months after McCoy's arrival, Stark Industries and Eisenhardt Enterprises decided to throw a joint gala in celebration of a new breakthrough in clean energy. Alex was practically coerced to attend, even though he really hated large parties. Socialization just wasn't his thing. ("Neither is it mine," Erik had shot back and Alex had to begrudgingly agree.) And if Stark had anything to do with the planning, Alex wanted nothing to do with the potential (disastrous) outcome. But Erik and his personal assistant Emma, promised that they'd keep Stark in line. Alex highly doubted it.

It was a crisp night in early November and Alex fiddled with his cuffs and resisted the urge to tug at his collar and his tie. Saying that he was uncomfortable would have been a gross understatement. But he looked presentable and still managed to give an air of sophistication, despite the fact that he would really prefer to be in jeans and a t-shirt instead of a tuxedo.

"Alex," Erik waved him over to the refreshments table. The older man handed the blond a champagne flute, which Alex gladly accepted. "You clean up nicely."

"So do you," he shot back. It was the usual banter between them, the usual joke. Erik looked sharp and suave in his tailored tux and even Alex thought that he was very attractive. He had always thought Erik attractive, but they had both agreed from the beginning that they should remain strictly friends and their relationship was stronger because of it. "I hope your promise of keeping things civilized holds true."

"Pepper and Emma can handle Tony," Erik answered coolly. "I doubt he'd want both women on his tail for blowing something up."

Alex snorted, "If you put it that way, then I suppose my skepticism is unwarranted."

Erik smirked, "Indeed."

They both fell into mutual silence as Alex sipped his champagne and watched Stark's and Erik's employees mingle. Alex's gaze eventually fell on McCoy and his wife and his breath involuntarily hitched at the sight. McCoy looked absolutely _delectable_ in a tux and damn his libido for noticing it, too. He felt Erik's eyes on him, but he stubbornly ignored it in favor of devouring Henry McCoy's beauty.

"That's just asking for trouble," Erik said knowingly. Of course Erik would figure it out that quickly; they'd known each other for years, after all.

"I know," he replied, his lips against the champagne flute. He emptied the glass in a large gulp. "Just because I'm attracted doesn't mean I'm in love."

"No, but it could lead to it."

Alex shot Erik a glare while picking up another flute. "I think you're attractive, you don't see me professing love and devotion to you."

A low chuckle, "And thank God for that."

"It'd take an incredibly patient and understanding man to handle you."

Erik didn't respond, and Alex didn't expect him to.

A few minutes passed in silence and Alex had polished off his second glass of champagne (being slightly tipsy at these events always helped him get through it in one piece) when Tony came up and wrapped a friendly arm around Erik's shoulders.

"Erik! Good idea, hanging around the booze. I take it you're enjoying yourself?"

He shrugged, "As long as you have nothing up your sleeve, Stark."

"Oooh, that burns! I'm completely innocent today. Pepper has thoroughly convinced Jarvis to keep an eye on me, too. I can't believe that she got my computer to spy on me!"

"I can believe it," Erik said, a small smirk on his lips.

"Touché, Lehnsherr. I have someone I'd like you to meet, actually, you'll love him, exactly your type." Stark smirked widely, "I'll be right back!" and he disappeared into the crowd just as quickly as he came.

Alex raised an intrigued eyebrow at his friend, "Since when has Stark started trying to set you up?"

"Probably since he and Pepper started tentatively dating." Erik gave him a wry look, "You know, first time he's ever had a steady relationship and he's finally seeing the benefits of monogamy. It's amusing, to say the least."

"I bet," said Alex, grinning.

When Stark came back, Alex was surprised to see McCoy and his wife trailing behind. Alex had to brutally stamp down a rush of desire, and the two and a half glasses of champagne wasn't helping.

"This is Charles Xavier, we went to MIT together. Absolutely brilliant, but refuses to work for my company." Stark mock pouted at the shorter man and he simply smiled indulgently.

"You know why, Tony. Not that I don't condone clean energy, but there are other things that are far more interesting to me," Xavier replied in a smooth English accent.

Xavier extended a hand for Erik and he took it calmly. "Erik Lehnsherr."

"Brilliant. Fantastic to finally meet you," Xavier beamed. "Hank here holds you in very high regard."

"McCoy?" They glanced at the man and he had a delicate blush across his cheeks, and Alex couldn't help but find it endearing. McCoy wasn't wearing his glasses, and it made his eyes shine brighter than Alex thought was possible.

"Charles is my brother," Raven cuts in, her hand resting delicately on her husband's arm. "And they geek out together practically every other day. It's exhausting." Though her words sounded harsh, she had a fond smile on her lips.

Alex tuned out of the conversation for a moment and vaguely wondered why McCoy decided to work for Erik instead of Stark. He had a connection with Stark Industries through his brother-in-law and yet he decided on Eisenhardt Enterprises.

"Well, since you already know McCoy, this is Alex Summers, a good friend and a fantastic geophysicist," Erik said, pulling him back and forcing him to socialize. Alex sent him a light glare and there was definitely a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Ah, yes, Alex," exclaimed Stark. "Erik has told me about you."

"Nothing bad, I hope," Alex said amicably, shaking Stark's hand.

"Oh, definitely everything bad," Tony joked, grinning. "I tried to convince Erik once to let me borrow you on one of my projects but he absolutely refused." He sighed theatrically, "Erik likes to keep the good ones to himself."

Alex smirked, "Yes, Erik can be quite possessive."

"And you'd know, eh?" Stark waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Alex fought the urge to roll his eyes; it wasn't the first time people thought that he and Erik were together. It was a pain to always have to explain otherwise, especially when there were rules about superiors dating subordinates, let alone the CEO of a corporation.

"We're just friends," he and Erik said together, as what usually happened when someone assumed.

Stark raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right," he laughed. "I knew; just couldn't help teasing you two."

"Of course," Erik said dryly.

The whole time, Alex noticed, Xavier was eyeing Erik appreciatively with a constant smile on his lips. Maybe this time, Stark's hopeless matchmaking wouldn't be so hopeless after all.

He quietly excused himself while snatching another flute of champagne and giving Erik a significant look. Alex saw a nearly imperceptible lip twitch of amusement, which he interpreted as 'shut up and go away'.

Alex found himself half an hour later on the balcony looking over the main hall where most of the guests still mingled. He was already on his fifth glass of champagne and cursed Stark for having impeccable taste and never settling for anything but the best; they were too good to stop drinking and the slight light-headedness wasn't helping in his non-decision to cease and desist.

"Hey."

He blinked and looked over his shoulder; it was McCoy. "Hi."

"If Charles wasn't exaggerating his stories, I heard these events end somewhat spectacularly."

Alex snorted, "You could say that." He took a sip of his nearly empty flute. "The only reason I'm here is 'cause Erik promised that Stark wouldn't pull any of his stunts this time. I was highly skeptical." His gaze returned to the people downstairs, "Though it seems that this time Erik may really have everything in order."

"You call Mr. Lehnsherr by his first name?" he asked, eyes startled. Damn were his eyes were incredibly blue.

Alex shrugged, "I've known him for several years," he answered, avoiding giving exact details. He may be a bit drunk, but he almost always kept his head when intoxicated.

McCoy frowned, "As I understand it, Mr. Lehnsherr hired you right after graduate school." Alex nodded. "You've known him before then?" Another nod.

"If you dare say that that's favoritism, I swear I'll throw you off the balcony." And there was his lack of brain to mouth filter.

"No, no," McCoy waved away the accusation nervously. "I was just curious."

Alex eyed him for a long moment, relishing in the way McCoy squirmed uncomfortably. "You're all right, McCoy," he finally said.

"Uhm, thanks?"

He nodded, finishing the last of his champagne.

"How many glasses have you had?" McCoy deftly plucked the flute from Alex's fingers and he blinked in surprised confusion.

"Six, I think. I stopped counting after I left Erik with you and Xavier." He peered at McCoy closely. "Where's your wife?" he suddenly asked.

"Oh, she's with Charles." A small smile tugged at his lips and Alex really really wanted to kiss them. "She finds it amusing to thwart any suitor of his."

He scoffed, "She'll have a hell of a time with that. Erik is very goal oriented and stubborn as hell. I doubt she'll succeed, if the looks Xavier was giving Erik was any indication."

"You're still quite eloquent when you're drunk," McCoy remarked.

"Yeah, so?"

McCoy smiled, "It's refreshing."

Alex stared at him, confused. "You're not drinking," he said belatedly.

A laugh, which sent shivers down Alex's spine. "I've had a few, but I'm a mess when I drink. I'd prefer not to embarrass myself."

"Hmm." Alex continued to stare unabashedly; he could blame it on the alcohol, if asked. McCoy's tie was slightly skewed, but his suit was still impeccable. His hair was gelled to the right and his eyes were still too blue, no longer obscured by the thick lenses he usually wore. His lips were red and slightly moist and Alex couldn't tear his eyes away. He wondered how McCoy's lips would feel on his, on his skin, wrapped around his cock. He wondered how it would feel to have McCoy's large hands and slender fingers caress his body.

Alex could feel himself flushing, a low burn of arousal in his groin. Too bad McCoy was spoken for; Alex would've totally fucked him. Or let McCoy fuck him. Whatever. He wasn't picky. The man was too gorgeous. Did he even know how damn attractive he was?

"What?"

Shit, did he say that last part out loud? "Nothing," he mumbled. Pushing himself off the banister and only wobbling slightly. "I should go."

"You sure? Are you okay to drive?" His brows were furrowed in concern, or maybe it was confusion.

"I've done worse," he said curtly.

"I can take you home, it's not a problem."

"It's fine, really," he started to walk away but McCoy grabbed his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. Alex was startled and met McCoy's eyes.

"I insist."

The warmth of McCoy's hand seeped through his jacket and he stared for long moments at the fingers wrapped around his arm. He jerked away and turned, hiding his flush. "What about your wife and Xavier?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets

"Charles can take Raven home with my car. We came together, after all."

Alex's eyes narrowed, "Then how are you getting home?" McCoy shrugged. "I may be drunk, McCoy, but that doesn't make the slightest bit of sense. You're offering to drive me home with my car and letting your brother-in-law and wife drive home with your car, leaving yourself without transportation once you get back to my place." McCoy nodded. "For a genius you're pretty fucking stupid."

He frowned, "Why are you suddenly so antagonistic?"

"Why are you pushing?" he shot back. Alex sighed, massaging his temples. "Look, let me find Erik first, all right? I usually crash at his place if I need to because it's closer; he can hold his liquor like champ." And he strode away without waiting for an answer. "Unless he's gotten in Xavier's pants already," he muttered.

Finding Erik wasn't that difficult. As expected, he was chatting with Xavier and he looked more open and relaxed than Alex has ever seen him. Surprisingly, Erik offered his apartment to Alex and McCoy, as Raven had already driven the car home and Erik was driving Xavier.

Alex scowled at Erik. "You're doing this on purpose," he growled lowly, so only his friend could hear him. Erik gave him a look of innocence that Alex knew was bullshit. He dearly wished he could punch Erik's smug face, but even if he were a friend, it would look very bad from a corporate standpoint. An employee attacking his CEO? No fucking way.

Instead, Alex gave the dirtiest look he could muster that clearly stated _I hate you so much_ that even Xavier flinched. He snatched the keys in Erik's hand and stomped away, making his mood quite clear. Alex was going to give Erik as much hell as he could for this.

McCoy was outside, leaning calmly on one the banisters of the staircase. His tie was undone and the top three buttons of his shirt hung open. Alex could see the sharp angle of McCoy's collarbone and growled lowly, hating Erik even more. McCoy turned when Alex came up next to him and offered him a small smile. Alex didn't return it. "We're crashing at Erik's," he stated simply. "I'll go get the car."

Alex found the valet easily and gave him his ticket. It didn't take long for them to drive his car up to the cul-de-sac and Alex got into the passenger seat after tipping the driver. McCoy hurried after him and closed the door before buckling up and adjusting the seat.

"Turn right when you get to the driveway," said Alex, slouching back into his chair. He saw McCoy nod out of the corner of his eye, and they were off. Alex continued to give him directions, and his bad mood lightened to a simmer.

McCoy parked the car effortlessly and Alex silently led the way to Erik's penthouse. He fumbled a little with the keys and cursed under his breath. Alex finally managed to open the door and he immediately threw the keys onto the closest counter and started to undo his cuffs then loosened his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. "You can take the guest bedroom, I'll sleep out here."

"What?"

Alex huffed, "As close Erik and I are, we do not sleep in the same bed. He has this thing about sharing his bed, don't ask me what or why." He frowned, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the back of the sofa. "His room is off-limits, even to me, unless he says otherwise. So you take the guest bedroom and I'll sleep on the sofa."

"Can't we share the bed?"

Alex turned to stare at him, incredulous. "Are you serious?" It's not that he didn't want to. No, he really _did_ , but he also really _couldn't_. The man was married, damnit, and as far as he knew, straight.

McCoy shrugged, "It'd be more comfortable, wouldn't it?"

"I've slept in far worse situations, bozo." The name slipped out before he could stop himself and he winced internally.

"I don't mind." Whether it was about the name or about sharing the bed, Alex wasn't completely sure. He peered closely at McCoy, trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking.

"No," he finally said, turning away and untucking his shirt. He fumbled with his buttons and cursed silently when his fingers refused to cooperate. A light touch on his hand startled him out of his daze. What startled him even more was the feel of soft lips against his and Alex's eyes widened in shock.

As much as he wanted to lean into the kiss, he still had enough sense in his alcohol infused brain to break the kiss and blurt, "What the hell?"

"Alex," McCoy whispered, and his smooth voice sent shivers of arousal through his body. He leaned in again for another light kiss and Alex didn't pull away, but he still didn't return it.

"I thought you weren't drunk."

"I'm not." Alex gave him a narrow eyed look. "Maybe a little," he amended. "I had another while I was waiting for you."

"Fucking hell, and I let you drive?"

"Hey, we got here fine, didn't we?"

"That's not the point." His breath hitched when McCoy ran a hand up his back, and he groaned softly when he trailed his nails back down. McCoy pulled him in and captured his lips, and Alex tentatively kissed back. "You're married," he said weakly, his resolve quickly deteriorating.

"I know," he answered.

"Then why – ?" He moaned when McCoy pressed their crotches firmly together and rolled his hips. "Fuck," he whispered. McCoy was busy undoing Alex's shirt buttons with one hand while his mouth was licking and sucking down his throat.

"Do you usually cheat on your wife with other men?" he managed, his voice breathy.

"No," McCoy answered.

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

"I like you, Alex. You're fascinating."

Alex frowned, unsure if that was a compliment or a veiled insult. He didn't ponder long, and he let out a low moan when McCoy tweaked one of his nipples. Alex couldn't think straight, and he could barely wonder _what the hell is going on? How did this happen?_ Because he was horny, damnit, and McCoy seemed more than willing, and those hands, those lips –

"Fuck it," he growled, and he pulled McCoy's head up and crushed their lips together. Alex was by no means virtuous, but he wasn't a home wrecker, either. But if McCoy had no qualms about cheating on his wife – with a _man_ , no less – then he wasn't going to judge. He's done far worse in the past and it'd be hypocritical of him if he did. No one was going to find out, and this wasn't going to happen again.

He walked them towards the general area of the guest bedroom's door, his hands fisted in McCoy's shirt. McCoy's back met the doorjamb roughly and he grunted softly, but Alex was fumbling for the handle with one hand while trying to undo McCoy's buttons with the other.

They tumbled into the room, barely keeping their balance, and Alex tugged the shirt over McCoy's head and practically tackled him onto the bed. If he had the opportunity, even if it was this once, damn him if he wasn't going to take full advantage.

Alex propped himself up on his hands and knees to get a good look at McCoy. He was all lean muscle, just as he had thought. Flat stomach, well defined arms, a strong chest. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat in appreciation.

"Did you just purr?" McCoy asked, amused.

Alex glared, "Shut up." He sealed McCoy's lips with a fierce kiss, which the brunet gladly returned. Shifting, he lowered his body so he was flush against McCoy's. They both groaned into the kiss when their arousals met, and they ground their hips together in response. Alex nipped and licked down McCoy's neck, careful even in his lust-filled daze to not leave any marks. Alex started to sit back on his heels and McCoy made a quiet noise of dissent at the lost of friction between them.

"Alex," McCoy moaned, as the blond continued past his collarbone and capturing a pert nipple gently in his teeth. " _God_." McCoy's hips bucked up and Alex couldn't help but smirk.

"Hey," Alex said quietly, sitting back and looking down at McCoy. The brunet met his gaze, and Alex didn't think he'd ever get enough of those eyes. "Condoms?"

McCoy flushed lightly and shook his head. Alex sighed; that was unfortunate, but it wasn't the end of the world. "No penetration, then," he said frankly, as he tantalizingly undid McCoy's belt.

"I guess not," he replied breathily.

Alex smirked, "Are you clean?" He popped the button, pulled down the zipper and roughly palmed McCoy's erection.

He groaned loudly, head thrown back, neck exposed, and Alex thought it was the most beautiful fucking thing he's ever seen. "Yes," McCoy managed to choke out.

"Good," Alex murmured, before he pulled down McCoy's pants and boxers over his hips and dove down to nip at the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He ran his tongue up towards McCoy's arousal, relishing in the hitch of breath, then he placed open mouthed kisses across his scrotum, gently pulling at the loose skin between his lips.

Alex felt fingers thread through his hair, start to clench and massage his scalp. He let out a little hum in approval and laved his tongue up McCoy's shaft, lingering on the vein. Breathing lightly on the head, he heard a soft moan, the fingers in his hair pushing him down gently. He lapped up the precum and teased at the head, never quite engulfing McCoy in his mouth.

When the brunet growled and tugged hard at his hair, Alex finally decided to acquiesce and swallowed him whole, relaxing his throat and taking in as much as he could.

"Oh _God_ ," McCoy moaned, his back arching. Alex rolled his tongue around the shaft and started to suck, pumping the base of McCoy's shaft with his hand. He fumbled with his other hand to undo his own belt buckle and groaned around McCoy when he fisted himself, pleasure shooting up his spine. Alex bobbed his head in rhythm with his strokes, keeping it steady.

The brunet's breaths were coming in short, harsh gasps and Alex felt McCoy's cock pulse in his mouth. He increased his speed and McCoy's grip on his hair tightened to the point of pain.

"I'm gonna –"

Alex let go of his own arousal and instead rolled McCoy's balls in his hand, then pressed strongly at his perineum. McCoy came with a shout, his hands clenching the bed sheets and Alex's hair. Alex didn't let him go until McCoy was completely spent, swallowing his cum and swirling his tongue around the head.

"You swallowed," McCoy said breathlessly, his eyes shining in surprise.

Alex swiped the back of his hand across his lips and sat back on his haunches. "Yeah?" he said defiantly. And he had just enough sense to bite back the _your wife doesn't?_ because if McCoy's expression was anything to go by, his wife didn't do it often if ever.

McCoy propped himself up on his elbows, eying Alex intently, hair mussed and a light flush across his cheeks. God, he looks amazing. "Shall I return the favor?"

Alex followed McCoy's gaze and had to stifle a groan at the thought of McCoy's lips around his cock. Instead, he shrugged nonchalantly and said, "If you want." And his hand wandered back to his erection and he let his head fall back with a moan.

"I do," was all Alex heard before he felt soft lips on his neck. A shuddering breath, and McCoy gently tugged Alex's pants lower down his hips as McCoy continued to trail kisses down to his collarbone. He swatted Alex's hand away and replaced it with his own, stroking strongly. Alex hissed and clenched the sheets tightly.

"McCoy," he growled, tugging the nape of the brunet's neck.

He smirked and without warning, dove down to nuzzle at Alex's crotch. Alex gasped in surprise and a hand flew to twist in the brunet's hair. McCoy didn't tease; his lips wrapped around Alex's cock and sucked.

"Fucking hell," he moaned. McCoy hummed in response, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body, and Alex fisted the dark hair harshly. His imagination didn't do McCoy's mouth justice. Much too soon, he felt the pressure building and his muscles tensing for release. "Shit. Shit, McCoy, I'm close."

In response, McCoy sucked harder, moved faster. Alex desperately tried to hang on a little longer, but he was already clinging precariously on the edge. When he felt a finger circle his hole and push in delicately, he lost control and came explosively.

He hunched over McCoy, his forehead resting on the brunet's back, panting heavily. Alex flinched when McCoy released him and forced himself to straighten so McCoy could sit up. McCoy leaned in for a languid kiss, which Alex returned tiredly.

"You're pretty good for a straight, married man," he said, as McCoy lay down on the bed, pulling Alex with him.

"'M not straight," McCoy murmured, settling into the pillows and blankets.

Alex furrowed his brow in confusion, his brain unable to process the words completely. "What?"

McCoy tugged Alex closer and kissed the crook of his neck. "Go to sleep," he mumbled, avoiding answering. He rested his cheek on Alex's shoulder, an arm slung loosely around the blond's waist. And Alex knew that he wasn't going to get further explanation, and in the back of his mind he didn't want to know. So he fell asleep, McCoy nestled next to him, content.

When Alex woke up, McCoy was gone.

~*+=


	2. Break Me

_**II. Break Me** _

_Why do we continue to fight,_  
 _When we’re done in by the same punch again and again?_  
 _That’s one of life’s mysteries_

_Utada Hikaru – Sakura Drops_

~*+=

“Scott, I slept with a guy.”

A short pause.  “Oookay?”

“. . . He’s married.”

A sharp intake of breath, and a slow exhale.  “A stranger?”

Alex winced and groaned softly, “No.  I kind of work with him.”

“Fucking shit, Alex.”

“I know!  I know, I fucked up.”  He sighed, running an agitated hand through his hair.  “I was drunk, he was drunk – I think – and it just sort of happened.”  Alex gripped the phone tightly in his hand.  “Please don’t tell Jean, she’ll kill me.”

An amused scoff, “I won’t, but you know how well she can read people.  She _is_ a psychiatrist.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex lamented.  “You should probably get my obituary ready and start writing my eulogy.”

“It was only the one time, right?”

“Well, yeah, Scott,” he said, rolling his eyes, though his brother couldn’t see it.  He slouched into one of his squashy armchairs.

“Then just don’t let it happen again.  And keep things professional at work.”

“I _know_ that.  But it’s just – ”

Silence for long moments until Scott prodded, “Just?”

“He’s really _really_ attractive,” he finished lamely.  “And I think I might like him more than just the physical.”

“Alex,” Scott started seriously.  “You’re treading dangerous territory.”

He scowled, “Don't you think I know that?  I can’t fucking help that I’m attracted to a married man. Or that we sucked each other off and that he’s fucking sexy as hell after he’s been thoroughly debauched.”

“Alex, I really don’t need to know the details of your escapades,” Scott said blandly, and Alex could just imagine his brother pinching the bridge of his nose in both embarrassment and exasperation.  He would have laughed in any other situation, but really, this was pretty serious.

“What if it does happen again?” he asked, scared in spite of himself.  He pulled his knees up to his chest and bit his lip.  He hated feeling so uncertain; it made him feel weak, like he wasn’t in charge of his own life.

“If it does?”  Scott’s voice was calm, tender, but Alex could hear the underlying fear and empathy.  “Be careful not to fall in love.”

A sad laugh and an ironic smile, “Easier said than done.  Love finds you when you least expect it.  You should know.”

“Yeah, I do.”  He sounded subdued and just as terrified as Alex, and his heart clenched at the thought.  Alex almost regretted his words; neither of them liked dredging up their past and this was a relatively recent and particular sore spot in Scott’s.

“But you worked it out,” he said softly.  “You guys are okay now.”  _And Nate and Rachel still have a family_ , he thought, and Alex was sure Scott knew the subtext to his words.

“Yeah.  Yeah we are.”  A pause, “I just don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.”

“I know.”

They were both silent as Alex picked at a hole in his jeans, pondering what was, what could have been, and what is.  Scott broke the silence by asking, “What’s his name?”

“Hank,” he said.  “His name is Hank McCoy.”

~*+=

Surprisingly, the following days weren’t as awkward as Alex thought it would have been.  Hank treated him as he always did and Alex was his usual sarcastic, snarky self.  He did, however, manage to give Erik a good smack when they were in the relative safety of his office.

“You only did that so you could get into Charles Xavier’s pants,” he accused.

“You needed it,” Erik said unrepentantly, rubbing his arm where Alex had slugged him hard.

“He’s _married!_ ”

“He wanted it, too.”

“That’s not the fucking point, Lehnsherr, and you know it.”

Erik leveled him with a cool gaze and Alex continued to glower.  Alex was pretty good at reading the older man, but sometimes he had no fucking clue.  But Erik did know that when Alex used his last name, he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have.  He finally sighed and nodded, gesturing for Alex to sit.

“Scotch?” he offered.

Alex raised an incredulous eyebrow, “A little early, even for you.”  Though he also knew it was Erik’s own way of apologizing.

“Tony and I have been in talks of establishing a joint research program in Hawaii,” he explained.

“And you’re telling me this because . . .?” he asked, settling down in one of the chairs.

“I value your opinion.”  Erik poured both of them a shot and slid one over to Alex.  He caught it deftly and took a sip; like Stark, Erik always had the good stuff.

“As a friend,” he said, stating the obvious.  “I’m not a business manager. Financially or otherwise.”

“I know, but as a geophysicist I’m sure you have your own opinions about the pros and cons of setting up a facility in Hawaii.”

Alex leaned back, cradling the glass in his hands.  “It’s definitely a better place for geophysics than here in New York, and less dangerous than California.  It has a lot of potential for wind and solar energy, too.  _Especially_ solar energy.”

Erik nodded, “That’s what I thought, too.”

“I’d suggest trying to strike a deal with Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.  If you have access to Kilauea, then there’s a lot of potential geothermal energy.  Though the locals may not be too keen on you trying to harness Pele,” he added as an afterthought.

Erik’s lip twitched in amusement.  “Ah yes, I nearly forgot that you were born and raised in Hawaii.”

Alex snorted, “Bullshit.”  Erik grinned and didn’t refute him.  “I’ve never visited the Big Island; I wasn’t there for long, as you know.  And I was a city kid, hanging around Honolulu, mostly.”

The older man shrugged.  “If Tony and I manage something, would you like to lead the project?”

He blinked in surprised confusion.  “Me?” Alex asked, startled.  “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.  I meant it when I said you are a fantastic geophysicist.”  Alex shifted uncomfortably, unused to praise.  “Just take the compliment."

“Thank you,” he muttered, Erik likely knowing exactly what he was thinking.

“And you’re a good friend and I trust you.”  Erik and Alex locked gazes.  “You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

“You’re just trying to get rid of me,” he said, cheeky, an ironic smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, yes, absolutely,” Erik replied, deadpan.  “If I wanted to do that, I would have never hired you and kicked you out of my life years ago.”

Alex chuckled and fiddled with his glass.  He took another sip, contemplating the offer.  Move to Hawaii?  Would he want that?  There was no doubt in Alex’s mind that he would love working closely with volcanoes; he had extremely limited opportunities here on the east coast.  But he may go crazy with the serene monotony of the islands.  Alex liked large cities; there was more to do, more to see, more distractions when his mind darkened.  Hawaii may suffocate him.  But he couldn’t deny that the idea of multiple up close and personal encounters with Kilauea and its power entranced him.  “I’ll think about it,” he said finally.  “You and Stark don’t have anything set in stone yet, anyway.”

“True.”  Erik leaned back in his executive chair, relaxed.  “If negotiations go smoothly, maybe a year at most.”

“That’s quick, even by your and Stark’s standards,” he said, eying Erik dubiously.

Erik flashed him a devious grin, “We’ve been tossing the idea around for awhile.”

Alex barked out a laugh, “Which means you totally did _not_ need my opinion.”

“No,” he said seriously.  “Your opinion only confirmed ours.”

“Hn.”  Alex downed the rest of his scotch, relishing the burn.  “Well, let me know then.  I’ll tell you my decision when the time comes.”

Erik nodded.  “Thank you.”

“Of course.”  Alex stood, placed his empty glass on Erik’s desk and gave his friend a genuine smile.  “I hope it works out, regardless of my own decision.”

He returned the smile, “Me too.”

Alex turned and made his way to the door, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”  He gave a casual wave over his shoulder and exited Erik’s office.

Back in the labs, he settled down in his corner with his papers scattered across his desk.  He barely started to jot down notes and ideas when Sean Cassidy, a geologist and geographer from a different division slid into the chair across of him.

“Summers.”

Alex raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the redhead.  “Yes?”

“We got some new trinkets that may help us better predict earthquakes, thought you’d be interested,” Cassidy said, unperturbed by Alex’s reservation.

Interest piqued, Alex put his pencil down and leaned forward.  “How?”

“We’ve been tracking the pressure buildup of various plate boundaries and we dug up some old archives.  Obviously, there are still a lot of variables to smooth out.”

“That kind of prediction may take years to gather enough information,” Alex frowned, turning over other possible ideas in his mind.  “Have you ever thought about chemically tracking the gases the Earth releases before a quake?”

Cassidy smirked, “You caught on quicker than some of my colleagues thought, Summers.”

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  “You came here solely because our department has the best biochemist,” he accused and Cassidy threw him a shameless smile.  A quick glance around the lab confirmed that Hank was still there, tinkering with various beakers and scribbling down notes on his clipboard.  “Hey, McCoy,” he called across the room.  The brunet glanced up, brows furrowed, probably from annoyance at being interrupted.  “C’mere for a sec.”

“Give me a moment, I need to finish recording these results,” and he turned back to his beakers.

Alex shrugged and picked up his pencil again.  “He’s all yours, if he’s willing to cooperate.  As far as I know, he’s got a lot on his hands right now.”

“I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help.  A brilliant mind like his would never turn anything scientific down.”

“Probably,” Alex muttered, returning to his own notes and scribbles.

A few long minutes passed and Alex was well into his zone, Cassidy a silent sentinel, when Hank finally came over.  “What is it?”

Alex ignored him and simply jabbed his pencil towards the redhead, intent on finishing the equations in front of him and partially wanting to avoid looking into Hank’s eyes.  They never failed to mesmerize him.  Cassidy and Hank’s voices were a low murmur in the background and he allowed himself to relax under Hank’s smooth tenor.  A laugh, and Cassidy’s chair scraped the floor loudly as he stood, making Alex wince internally.

“Cool, man.  Thanks a lot.”

“Not a problem.”

And Cassidy was gone.  Alex continued to work, trying to ignore Hank hovering next to him.  When he started to feel uncomfortable, he finished up his current equation and looked up, locking eyes with Hank.  A light blush erupted on his cheeks and Alex cocked a curious eyebrow.  “What?”

“I – Sorry,” he stammered.  “That was rude.”

Alex sat back, amused.  He twirled his pencil between his fingers, watching Hank fidget with his sleeves.  This man was so . . . intriguing.  He was awkward yet confident, eloquent yet inarticulate, shy yet bold.  Alex wondered what made Hank tick.

“Have you had lunch yet?” Hank asked.

Alex shook his head, bemused.  “Though I did have a scotch with Erik,” he added, smirking.

“You drank on the clock?” he said, sounding scandalized, and Alex couldn’t help but laugh.  So maybe he shouldn’t have said that; it _did_ sound like favoritism, after all.  But hell, if Erik didn’t mind, then Alex didn’t either.  It’s not like the fact that they were good friends was a huge secret.  They just tried to keep it from exploding on the tabloids, and both of them were rather taciturn about their relationship – Erik with other CEOs and Alex with his colleagues.

“He was telling me about a new business proposition,” he said when he recovered from his mirth.

“Oh,” Hank perked up a bit.  “What is it?”

“Sorry, I can’t say,” Alex smiled apologetically.

“But he told you about it?” his head tilted slightly to the side, inquisitive.

His expression hardened just a bit, “Why?”  Hank must have noticed his change in demeanor and immediately started to apologize, tripping over his words.  Alex let out a little laugh, “It’s all right, McCoy.  You don’t seem like a gossiper.  Just don’t spread the word around.”

Hank shook his head, “Of course not.”  And Alex nodded in acknowledgment.  “So, um, lunch?”

“With you?”  Alex studied Hank closely.  He should really say ‘no’ and keep their relationship as professional as possible.  The man was _married_ (he had to keep reminding himself) and he had already (accidentally?) slept with him once.  Pursuing a friendship may be dangerous.  And as he had told Scott, Alex wasn’t just physically attracted to Hank he was also incredibly intrigued about _who_ Hank was.  The man’s actions the night of the gala didn’t correlate with the current stammering, blushing, _awkward_ scientist.

“Yes?” Hank ventured.

Before his rational mind could take over, his mouth opened to say, “All right.”  And Alex knew intrinsically that he was on his way down a slippery slope and if he didn’t put the brakes on, it would only end in heartbreak.  But a part of him, the selfish, impulsive side of him, couldn’t quite bring himself to care.  So he pushed his practicality to the back of his mind, letting it simmer in quiet resentment, patiently waiting for its time.

~*+=

Alex and Hank developed a sort of routine during their lunch breaks.  They almost always took it together and none of their colleagues questioned it.  Hank never mentioned Raven and Alex was glad of that, but they both found it entertaining to dissect the burgeoning romance of Charles and Erik.  Alex knew Erik well, while Hank knew Charles so both had their own ideas on how the relationship could possibly play out.

The more Alex learned about Hank, the more intrigued he became.  Their conversations ranged from philosophy, history, art, music, even to food preferences and travel experiences.  Alex had been surprised when Hank admitted that he never travelled outside of the United States; he’d assumed that a mind like Hank’s would yearn for the bigger world.  Likewise, Hank wanted to know more about Alex’s brief stint in Europe.

“Arm aber sexy,” he had told Hank, when he was retelling his experiences in Berlin.

“Wha-what’s that mean?” Hank asked, clearly embarrassed by Alex saying the word ‘sexy’, which Alex found extremely amusing.

He smirked, “Poor but sexy.  Berlin’s unofficial motto amongst the younger population.”  He emphasized his words with a wink.  Hank blush deepend and Alex felt a warm pleasure shoot through him at the scientist’s reaction.

When thanksgiving weekend rolled around, Alex was dangerously close to falling in love.  Hank was more fascinating than he had first thought and Alex felt even more magnetized to him.  But he was stupid, so stupid, to think that he could’ve maintained a simple friendship between them.  For all he knew, Hank probably thought that was all their relationship was – he was married after all – but Alex had seen his looks and his smiles, felt the lingering touches.  Alex knew that whatever they had between them was impossibly complicated and he wondered if he even had the heart – the courage? – to untangle himself.

On the drive to Scott’s for thanksgiving dinner, Alex turned over his options; there weren’t many.  He could tell Hank to fuck off and have nothing more to do with him, but Alex was already too involved.  Or he could continue on and maybe things will turn out for the better, but there were too many variables that could go wrong and Alex wasn’t sure if he could handle it.  Or he could quit his job, but he enjoyed his work and he couldn’t abandon Erik and it was an overall stupid thing to do.

The bottom line really was this: he was attached and there wasn’t a damn thing that Alex could do about it.

The drive to Boston has never felt longer.

~*+=

“Uncle Alex, Uncle Alex!”  Two youngsters cried and barreled into his legs.  Alex laughed and put down his overnight bag and kneeled to hug his niece and nephew.

“Hey there, squirts.  How are you?”

“I’m not a squirt!” Nate pouted.

“You are if you barely reach my waist,” Alex teased.

“Will I grow as big as you and Daddy?”

Alex chuckled, “Eventually, Nate.  Eventually.”  He turned to Rachel, “And how’s the princess of the house?”

Rachel, always the shier one, simply smiled and blushed, wrapping her short arms around Alex’s neck.  He didn’t hesitate to return the girl’s hug and he even hefted her onto his hip when he stood.  Rachel buried her nose into his neck and giggled, and Alex smiled at her reaction.

Jean and Scott were watching them fondly from the edge of the foyer.  “Happy thanksgiving,” he said, grinning.

“You, too,” Scott replied.

“You must be exhausted,” Jean said.  “I’m proud to say that the sofa bed is still as comfortable as ever.”  Alex laughed and she smiled.  “Dinner will be ready in half an hour.”  He nodded, smiling.  “Nate, help Mommy set the table, okay?”

Nate had latched onto Alex’s leg when he stood and he was clinging to him fiercely, looking up at Alex with imploring eyes.  “Listen to your mother, Nate.”

He sighed and tromped away, head hung low in an act of defeat.  Jean ruffled her son’s hair as he passed and followed him into the kitchen.  “You go help Mommy, too, okay?” Alex said, addressing Rachel.  She nodded obediently and he let her down.

Alex picked up his bag again and made his way to the living area.  “I can’t believe they’re nine and seven already,” he said, knowing that Scott was trailing behind him.

“I know.  Time seems to be flying by.”

Alex dropped his overnight bag next to the sofa and stretched out the kinks in his back; driving for four hours really took a toll on his body.  He shrugged off his coat and threw it on the armrest then slipped off his shoes.

“Is Gabe coming this year?”

Scott shook his head.  “He said something came up.”

“Oh.”  Alex deflated.  He had always hoped, that at least once, the three of them could get together and be a family; they were all they had left, after all.

“I don’t think he’s ready yet.”

“Well how much more time does he need?” Alex huffed.  “We didn’t know he _existed_ until five years ago.  It’s not our fault the authorities kept him a secret from us.”

Scott sighed, “No, but remember that it took awhile for you to warm up to me, too.”

Alex frowned, “I suppose.”

“Anyway,” Scott said.  “How are you doing?”

“All right, I guess.”  And both of them knew that his words were heavy with meaning.  Scott gave him a look saying that they would talk about it later, but for now they were going to enjoy thanksgiving and forget their problems, at least for a while.

Dinner was intimate with just the three of them and the kids, and Alex enjoyed catching up with Jean.  They all got good laughs from Nate’s stories from school, and Rachel eventually started to become more animated, chiming in with their joint escapades.

Jean had a couple of new patients and she was extremely invested in one particular boy named John Allerdyce.  Apparently John had committed arson several times and Jean was convinced that he was just lonely and in pain, searching for answers and questioning his existence.  John sounded eerily like himself when he was a teenager and Alex wondered if that was why Jean was secretly so intent on helping him.

Afterwards, Scott ordered Jean to relax while he and Alex took care of the cleaning up.  She gave them a look, both exasperated and fond but did as she was told and slumped onto the sofa, taking the children with her.  While the brothers washed the dishes, Scott nudged Alex with his elbow, prodding Alex for details on his situation.

“We have lunch together almost every day.  We talk, we joke, but that’s it; nothing intimate.  But,” Alex sighed, defeated.  “I think I’m falling for him,” he admitted.

“I was afraid of that,” Scott said.

“It’s hard not to.  He’s just – ” Another sigh.  “Amazing.  Yet he’s so contradictory, so complicated.”

Scott nodded.  “That’s how Emma was,” he said softly, secretively.  “This is going to sound silly, but I know exactly how you feel.”

“I know.  What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly?  I don’t know,” he said apologetically.  “And it’s not to say that I don’t want to help, but what happened to me isn’t quite the same as your situation.”

“No, it’s not.  I’m Emma, Hank’s you.  And Raven’s Jean.”

Scott chuckled softly.  “Yeah.  Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.  Rather, I’ll _try_ ,” he said wryly.  Alex rinsed the last plate and placed it in the dish rack.  He dried his hands on the dishtowel, handing it to Scott when he was done.

“There’s only one other thing I can tell you, Alex,” said the brunet, laying out the towel to dry.  Alex looked at him patiently, waiting for Scott’s advice.  “You may know what you want, but he may not know what he wants.”

Alex frowned.  “What?” he asked, confused.

“I didn’t know what I was doing with Emma, when I was still madly in love with Jean.  Still am, for that matter.  But Emma was different, dangerous, the complete opposite of Jean, and she intrigued me.”  Scott turned away, brows furrowed and Alex wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to continue but at the same time he was curious.  He had known what had happened, but not the details, not Scott’s thought process during the situation.  And maybe, _maybe_ , it would help him make his own decision.  Hopefully it would be the right one.

“I don’t even think I know what I want,” Alex supplied.

“If you’re in love with him, you’ll know,” Scott said decisively.

“I’m not,” he said defiantly and Scott gave him a look.  “Yet.”

A small twitch of his lips, “That’s going to influence your decision.  I’m not going to push you either way, and you know I won’t judge you with whatever you choose but,” Scott placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezed.  “I don’t want to see you hurt.  We Summers’ have had enough of that to last a lifetime.”

Alex bit his lip, “Yeah.  Okay.”

Scott nodded and released his shoulder.  “But you know,” he said smiling ironically.  “Love and pain go hand in hand.”

“You need the bad to appreciate the good.”

“Yeah.  Something like that.”

Alex grinned sardonically, “I think it’s just a Summers curse.  That happiness is so elusive.  What do you think?”

Scott laughed, “Maybe, Alex.  Maybe.”

~*+=

Two weeks later when he and Scott spoke again, Alex knew, without a doubt in his mind, that he was in love with Hank McCoy.  He told Scott and his brother had nothing to say and Alex hadn’t expected him to.  Regardless, he was glad for Scott’s silent support despite the fact that Alex was – _is_ – an idiot.

“Gabe says he’s coming for the holidays,” Scott said when Alex asked for news from his brother.

“He always says that.”  Alex latched onto the new subject like a lifeline.

“I know, but he’s trying, okay?”

“I don’t see how copping out every time we invite him for a family get together constitutes as ‘trying’,” he said sourly.

“Alex,” Scott’s voice was reprimanding.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled.  He knew he wasn’t being fair to Gabe; if he and Scott were able to forge a strong bond with each other after nearly a decade of separation, then why couldn’t they do the same with Gabe?  But Gabe was still bitter.  Alex felt the same when Scott first introduced himself as his older brother, and Alex blamed him for leaving him behind and questioned why he didn’t try and find him sooner.

The truth was, though, the system had, for unknown reasons, kept Gabriel’s existence a secret from both Scott and Alex (or they ‘forgot’ to tell them about their youngest brother); Gabe was barely a year old when the accident happened.  On top of that, the authorities thought it wise to separate Scott and Alex into different foster homes (why they thought that was a good idea, Alex will never understand).  And the rest was history.

“I’m not going to be able to make it to Boston for Christmas,” he said.  “Erik has me working on this project that’s keeping me busy.”

“You should tell him to fuck off,” Scott joked.

Alex snorted, “I tried, but I’m kind of in charge.”  He didn’t say anything else about the Hawaii proposal; Alex wasn’t even sure if he would accept the promotion and apparent relocation to the islands.  It was still sorely tempting, though, but he didn’t want to tell Scott unless he was absolutely sure about his decision.

“The kids will be devastated,” Scott said, obviously trying to guilt Alex into reconsidering.

“I’ll send up gifts, don’t worry,” he replied, not falling for it.  “We can Skype, too, if they want; they’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Scott finally conceded, chuckling softly.  “Don’t work too hard.”

Alex shrugged, though Scott couldn’t see it.  “It keeps me distracted.”

“From Hank?” he asked point blank.

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “From Hank.”

“This is probably going to sound absolutely ridiculous, but maybe you should tell him.”

“What?” Alex said, shocked.  “Why would I do that?”

“Something good might come out of it.”

“Or it could explode in my face,” Alex countered.

“It was just a suggestion.”

“More like suicidal,” he muttered.

Scott sighed,  “All right, I get it.  Forget I said anything.”

He frowned.  “Why did you?”

“Never mind, Alex.  I’m sorry.”

Alex knew Scott was hiding something, but he also respected Scott’s privacy.  They both knew when not to pry and when to goad, and this was a time for Alex to back off and let it be despite his burning curiosity.  “All right,” he said finally after a moment of silence.  “Anything else?”

“No.  Nothing else,” he said, oddly subdued.

“Okay.”

And Alex ended the conversation, a myriad of thoughts racing through his mind.

~*+=

It was mid-January and Alex was having one of those days where everything went wrong.  His alarm failed to go off in the morning, he had run out of coffee, the elevator in his apartment structure was down for maintenance, he had to take public transportation because his car was in the shop and thus made him hours late for work, and to top it off, he forgot his and Hank’s joint proposal at home.  It was probably sitting on his kitchen counter laughing maniacally at Alex’s misfortune.

All he wanted to do was bang his head multiple times against his desk.  Continuously.  Maybe for the rest of the day.  And then his desktop decided to break down.

“Oh, for the love of fucking God,” he seethed.

The rest of the day consisted of Alex sitting crouched underneath his desk attempting to fix whatever the hell was wrong with his computer, muttering a constant stream of impressive expletives.  He didn’t know how much time had passed but he was extremely startled when someone came by and called his name.  So much so that he had hit his head on the underside of the desk, which prompted another string of profanities.

“Sorry!  I’m sorry.”

It was Hank, and he glared up at him while rubbing the top of his head.  “What?” he snapped.

“I – Need help?”

“God, yes,” he said, frustrated.  Hank joined Alex on the floor and Alex wasn’t sure if he should bless or curse the fact that his desk was quite large and the space underneath was roomy enough to fit both of them comfortably.  “What time is it?”

Hank shrugged, picking up the panels and wires.  “Six, six-thirty?” he guessed.

“Are you fucking serious?”  Alex rubbed his face tiredly, “I am in desperate need of a drink.”

The brunet chuckled, “I won’t tell.  I think Mr. Lehnsherr was about to offer you one a few hours ago, but you looked absolutely murderous.”

Alex snorted, “Erik’s seen worse; he was probably being his usual sadistic self.  You know, schadenfreude.”  He crawled out from under his desk and opened the lowest drawer on the left.  After a few moments of searching, he pulled out a bottle of scotch.

“You actually have alcohol in your desk?” Hank asked incredulously.

“Erik gave it to me,” Alex said, nonchalant, settling back in his spot under the desk.  “I think he actually put it there.”

Hank shook his head in amazement, a small smile on his lips.  “I’m not even going to ask.”

“Good, I won’t answer,” he said, smirking.  He popped open the bottle and took a large gulp.  Alex groaned at the burning warmth that crept down his throat, down his chest and into his stomach.  God, was that one of the best feelings in the world.  He glanced at Hank and didn’t miss the quick flick of blue eyes and the light blush on his cheeks.

They sat in companionable silence as Alex continued to take small sips of scotch; he was careful not to drink too much, though.  He only needed to relax, not get drunk.   Besides, it was kind of pathetic if Hank refused to drink with him.

Half an hour later, his computer was up and running and better than before.

“What the fucking shit,” Alex said in disbelief.  “I was trying to fix it for _hours_ and you do it in _thirty minutes_?  Not to mention you, like, upgraded it or some shit.”

“Uhm, sorry?” Hank said helplessly, laughing.

“I should’ve asked you when it first happened,” he grumbled.

“Why didn't you?”

Alex shrugged, “Too angry.  Today has been a fan-fucking-tastic day,” he said sarcastically.

The scientist hummed in acknowledgment.  “You need a ride home?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” he said, surprised.

“Well, you didn’t drive today, right?  It’d be faster if I took you.”

“Uh, sure.  Thanks.”

Hank nodded, “No problem.”

They both crawled out from underneath the desk and Alex replaced his scotch in his drawer.  He gathered his things and waited for Hank to finish organizing his work on his desk.  “Did you want to look over the proposal I forgot to bring today?”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Hank smiled.  “But if you want me to, I will.”

Alex followed Hank to his car and slipped into the passenger seat.  The drive was silent aside from Alex’s intermittent directions.  He told Hank to park in his stall since he wouldn’t have time to pick up his car until the weekend.  Alex led him to his apartment and winced at the sight of the disaster zone.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “This morning was _not_ working for me.”  There were papers and clothes strewn across the floor, random packages of food scattered around the kitchen in his mad (failed) search for some caffeine, and Alex was sure if he peeked into his bedroom, his duvet was probably half in the bathroom as he had stumbled frantically out of bed.

“It’s all right,” Hank said amusedly, taking in his surroundings.

Alex dropped his stuff in the foyer and started to clean up the counters, putting the food away in their respective places.  He picks up the folder with his and Hank’s proposal and hands it to the scientist.  “Here.”  Hank takes it and moves to sit at the island.  Alex continues to clean up his mess while Hank skims through the proposal.  He’s in his room fixing the bathroom and dragging his duvet back to its proper place when Hank comes in.

“It’s good.  I left it on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay, thanks.”  Alex tossed his comforter onto the bed and turned to face him.  “So . . . ” he trailed off, feeling a bit awkward.  “I’d ask you to stay for dinner but all I have right now are frozen pizzas and TV dinners.”

Hank chuckled, “I’ve ordered take out.”

“You what?” he blinked, confused.

“Just now,” Hank explained.  “I took note of your address and apartment number so I called in an order after I was done reading over the proposal.”

“Right,” he said, bemused.  Of course Hank was the observant-bordering-on-creepy type but his brain couldn’t quite wrap around the ‘why’.  “What about your wife?”

“I told her I’d be coming home late.”

“Right,” he repeated, still extremely confused and feeling like a fish out of water.  Seriously, just when he thought he had Hank McCoy figured out, the man would throw him for a loop and act the very opposite of his usual nerdy, awkward, scientific self.  Not that Alex minded that side of Hank; it was just a bit off-putting.  And wait, was Hank getting closer?  “Er – "

“Alex,” he stepped up to him and pressed a firm hand on the small of Alex’s back causing the blond to shiver.

“I don’t – ”

Hank cut him off by kissing him.  Alex was so surprised, he was sure he grunted – he refused to admit that he _squeaked_ , dammit.  His heart clenched and heat pooled at the pit of his stomach.  Hank’s tongue gently flicked across his lips and he opened them unconsciously.  The brunet didn’t hesitate to delve deeper, and Alex groaned, bringing a hand up to grip Hank’s shirt.  His mind was quickly becoming clouded with lust, but when Hank pulled him closer so their hips brushed, he tore away with a gasp.

“Hank, stop,” he pleaded.  Hank ignored him and breathed into his neck, sending shivers down Alex’s spine.  He peppered kisses down to his collarbone and Alex finally found the strength to wrench away.

“Stop!” Alex shoved Hank roughly, but kept a firm grip on his shoulder.  He was so conflicted; on the one hand he wanted to continue to ravish Hank’s mouth with fervor but on the other this – the whole situation – was wrong.  “Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t want to?” he asked, eyes wide with innocence but his voice tinted with sadness.

Alex growled, “You know damn well what I mean, McCoy.”   He gripped Hank’s shoulder so hard he was sure it would bruise.  “You’re cheating on your wife.  Willingly.  Tell me why.”

Hank shifted uneasily and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the doorbell.  Alex swore under his breath and extricated himself from Hank and stalked off.  He opened the door and saw the delivery boy, “How much?” he snapped, annoyed.

“I – er, thirty dollars,” the boy stammered, and Alex thrust two twenties at him and relieved him of the packages.

“Keep the change, kid.”  Alex slammed the door, feeling only a little bit of remorse, and made a note to never order from the place ever again.  He went to the kitchen and placed the food on the island and started to unpack them.

“I think you scared him.”

Alex eyed Hank warily.  “Whatever.”  He opened one of the Styrofoam containers and dug in without really knowing what he was eating.  Hank sat next to him and they ate in silence, and Alex knew Hank was giving him furtive glances between bites of his pad Thai.  After finishing half of his own plate – it was Thai curry – he exchanged it with Hank’s even though the brunet had only eaten a third.  Hank didn’t complain, though, and continued to eat quietly.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know Hank’s reasoning to why he had kissed him, why it seemed that he was interested in an affair.  Clean cut, well-dressed, play-by-the-rules Hank didn’t strike Alex as the adulterous type.  Sure, they had slept together once but that was nearly two months ago and they had both been intoxicated.  And Alex had been sure that that would’ve been the last intimate interaction between them.  It had been the heat of the moment; neither had been thinking straight, they were just _reacting_.

Granted, he still usually reacted first before thinking through his actions, but shit happened – Scott and Emma and Jean, amongst other things – that made him think over his own life.  And this wasn’t something that Alex should just react to.

Alex wasn’t even sure what Hank’s motivations were.

“Raven and I are going through a rough time,” Hank spoke up suddenly.

Alex’s head snapped up from where he was scowling darkly at his food.  “What?”

“We’ve been fighting a lot recently.”

He narrowed his eyes, “And?  Can you fix it?”

Hank shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he said noncommittally.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, ‘I don’t know’?”

“It means I don’t know!” Hank said, frustrated.  “We’ve never fought this much before.”

“So what, you want to fuck me on the side while you try to sort out your marriage?” Alex asked, muscles tense, brow furrowed.  “How is that supposed to help?”

“I just – I don’t – ” Hank rubbed his eyes tiredly, his glasses going askew.  “Yes?” he said helplessly.  “And I don’t think it would help at all.”

Alex pursed his lips, put down his fork and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Then why?”

“I like you,” he said weakly.  “I enjoy spending time with you.  On our lunch breaks.  I know you do, too.”

He stared at Hank, mouth slightly open in shock.  “What the hell?”

Hank blushed lightly, “Don’t tell me you weren’t flirting at least a little.”

“Oh my God,” Alex barely refrained from banging his head on the counter right then and there in disbelief.  Was this guy serious?  He took a deep breath before saying anything else.  “Look, Hank, I’m not gonna lie: I do find you attractive but fucking hell, you’re _married_.  And for Christ’s sake, having unresolved problems in your relationship doesn’t mean you go looking for something that might make it worse.”

“I know that,” Hank said, sounding at least a little repentant but Alex could tell he wasn’t about to back down.  “I find you attractive, too.”  And there was that blush again; this man was so contradictory that Alex marveled at how the hell Hank managed, well, _anything_.

Silence for long moments before Alex let out an incredulous laugh, “God, Hank, I never would have thought that a straight laced guy like you would even consider something this . . . _risqué_.”  He sighed and covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to keep his composure.

Alex really shouldn’t be contemplating this, he should say no and kick Hank out of his apartment.  A relationship like this was too reminiscent of what Scott had done to Jean a few years ago, and though Jean (bless her) had forgiven his idiot brother, Alex had resented Scott for months.  And he was seriously thinking about being “the other person” for Hank?  He had only met Raven a handful of times, but she had been charming and likeable.  Though he didn’t know her personally, he loathed thinking how much pain he could potentially cause her.

On top of the wrongness, Alex was already in love with the scientist.  It would be extremely imprudent, not to mention dangerous and self-destructive, to partake in any sort of intimacy with Hank.  A friendship with him was risky enough.  Scott had warned him and Alex was sure that if they started an affair, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Because Alex wanted Hank.  And as wary as he was about getting his heart broken, he was also extremely selfish.  He wanted gratification, he wanted to please Hank, he wanted to _touch_.

And just the thought of being able to touch when he theoretically wasn’t supposed to . . . it excited him.  Hank was off-limits, but here was an opportunity, a chance.  And oh, did Alex desperately want to _touch_.

Alex dropped his hands and peered at Hank, who was trying – and failing – to look calm and disinterested.  Flyaway hair, thick nerdy glasses, impossibly blue eyes, high cheek bones tinged with pink, red lips, slender fingers, lean yet muscular figure, long legs, and just all around gorgeous and desirable.  (Not to mention that Alex remembered the size of Hank’s cock in his mouth, how large it felt.  The memory served well for his fantasies when he masturbated and those orgasms were always incredibly explosive.)

“I don’t understand you,” he finally said.

“You don’t have to,” Hank replied.

Alex continued to scrutinize him, his mind a frantic warzone.  “This is a bad idea.”

“Maybe,” the brunet conceded.

And Alex made his choice; as much as he knew that he’d probably regret it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Hank’s.  It took a moment for Hank to respond, but when he did, he did with fervor.  Alex opened his mouth for Hank and they both groaned when their tongues met.  They kissed feverishly, and Alex had enough sense to pull away and say, “Bed.”  Though, he didn’t think he’d mind having sex on the kitchen counter, either.

Hank stood and pulled Alex with him and he followed willingly.  They tugged at each other’s clothes and grappled for dominance.  When Hank pushed Alex onto the bed and pinned him with surprising strength, Alex felt a surge of heat course through his body.

The brunet looked down on him with eyes darkened with lust.  “I’m in charge this time,” Hank growled, and Alex shivered in anticipation, finding that he was extremely turned on by the idea of submitting to Hank.

“Condoms and lube are in the top drawer,” Alex said before surging up for another kiss.  Hank returned it eagerly and Alex felt hands trail down his torso and realized that they were both wearing far too many clothes.  “Shirt.  Off,” he panted, and Hank obligingly sat back and shucked off his oxford, tossing it to the side.  Alex sat up as well and nipped Hank’s collarbone.

Alex trailed kisses down Hank’s chest, his hands deftly unbuckling Hank’s belt and button of his trousers.  He teased lightly at the waistband and Hank’s hipbones as Hank tugged off Alex’s shirt and made quick work of his belt.  They both maneuvered around each other to strip the rest of their clothes off and Alex finally got a good look of Hank in all his naked glory.

Hank was beautiful, and he wished he could say the sentiment aloud.

He was pushed back down on the bed with a fierce kiss and Hank parted Alex’s legs with his knees.  Alex moaned and he ran his nails up and down Hank’s back earning him a shiver and a growl.  Hank fumbled with the bedside drawer.

Hank broke the kiss and got up on his knees and leaned over Alex to search for the condoms and lube.  Alex was extremely distracted with the sight of Hank’s cock in front of him, hard and weeping.  He licked his lips and dove in, smirking smugly at the strangled cry that he elicited from the brunet.  Alex swirled his tongue around the head before engulfing him in his mouth.

A hiss, and he felt fingers tangle in his hair.  “Alex,” Hank said breathily.  He hummed in response and Hank groaned loudly.  Alex was just getting into a rhythm when Hank pulled him off with an embarrassing and obscene _pop_.

“Sneaky,” Hank said, a blush across his cheeks and a devious glint in his eyes.  Alex grinned unrepentantly and Hank swooped down and proceeded to kiss him silly.  He was so intoxicated with Hank’s mouth that he was startled when he felt a cool finger prodding at his entrance.  Shifting, he relaxed and pushed against Hank’s digit and the brunet proceeded to press his finger in.  It was easy to adjust to the first and second, but when Hank nudged in a third, Alex grunted softly.  “Sorry,” Hank murmured and Alex shook his head.

“’S fine; it’s just been awhile.”  Alex reached down to stroke at his erection and gasped.  Hank curled his fingers inside him and – “Oh, fucking shit,” Alex hissed, letting his head fall back against the pillows.  He moaned and rolled his hips, fucking himself on Hank’s fingers.  Hank thrust into Alex, making him writhe in pleasure.  “Hank,” he said breathlessly.

He removed his fingers and Alex had to bite back a whine of loss.  Alex watched Hank roll on a condom through half-lidded eyes and Hank stroked on some lube, head falling back with a silent cry.  Hank ran a hand down Alex’s inner thigh and gripped firmly at his knee, pushing Alex’s leg up close to his body.  His other hand wrapped around Alex’s arousal and Alex bit his lip as Hank aligned himself.  Hank steadily thrust his hips forward as he stroked Alex’s cock.  The brunet didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed, and they were both breathing hard from the sensations, Alex from the pleasurable burn and Hank from Alex’s heat surrounding him.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Alex panted.

A breathless, embarrassed chuckle.  Hank buried his face in Alex’s neck and nibbled lightly, his hand continuing to stroke Alex teasingly.  When Alex adjusted to Hank’s cock, he rolled his hips against Hank’s, earning him a sharp intake of breath.

“Alex,” he said, his voice shaky.

“C’mon, Hank,” he breathed into Hank’s ear.  “Move.”  And he rolled his hips again.  Hank growled and rammed into him fast and hard.  “ _Fuck_ ,” he swore, wrapping his free leg around Hank’s waist.  “Just like that, Hank.”  Hank released Alex’s arousal and braced himself against the headboard.  He started up a quick rhythm that left Alex breathless and moaning wantonly, back arching to entice Hank deeper.

Too soon, Alex felt the familiar pooling of heat in his groin and he pulled Hank’s face to him and crushed their lips together in a desperate kiss.  He clutched Hank closer with his leg, his cock straining in between them.  Alex grabbed his erection and started pumping in time with Hank’s thrusts and moments later he was spilling his seed over their stomachs, his cries of pleasure muffled by Hank’s mouth.  Hank followed him seconds after and Alex could feel Hank pulsing inside him.

They stayed entangled with each other while they tried to catch their breath.  Hank placed a kiss on Alex’s shoulder and pulled out gingerly, Alex barely managing to suppress his flinch.  The brunet discarded the condom and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a towel.  Alex was a bit surprised when Hank started cleaning him up, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment.  Hank tossed the towel aside and joined Alex back on the bed, casually draping an arm over the blond’s waist, his large hand resting on his hipbone.

“I still don’t understand you,” he said tiredly.  Hank didn’t answer, but he swore he felt Hank’s fingers twitch marginally.  Exhausted and sated, Alex closed his eyes and dozed, comforted in Hank’s heat next to him.

Alex woke to the rustle of clothing.  He blinked blearily and realized that Hank was dressing and likely needed to head back home.  To his wife.  He felt a stabbing pain in his heart, but refused to acknowledge it; he had known what he was getting into, he didn’t have the right to feel regret.

Hank noticed Alex’s sleepy gaze and he gave him a small smile.  He strode over and kissed Alex softly, which he returned hungrily.  The brunet broke the kiss when it was getting a little too heated and chuckled softly.

“I have to go,” he whispered, and Alex would be lying if he said that those words didn’t hurt just a little.

Instead, he replied with an equally quiet, “I know.”

And just like that, Hank was gone and Alex was left alone, naked, and cold in his own bed.

~*+=

“I’m such a fuck up.”

“Alex . . . ”

“No, really.  You warned me and everything, and I _knew_ that it was a bad idea but I did it anyway.”  Alex sighed, rubbing his temples.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I must be a masochist.”

“Wanting to be with someone you love isn’t masochistic.”

“Isn’t it?” he said sardonically.

Scott was silent and Alex wondered if he had hung up on him.  But Scott wouldn’t do that; neither of them would.  It was an unspoken rule between them: never hang up on each other and never say ‘goodbye’.

“Gabe came to Boston,” Scott finally said, changing the subject.

“Did he?” he asked, a smile forming on his lips.  “How was that?”

“Good.  It was good.  Slowly starting to forgive and acknowledge us as his family.”

“Kind of wished I was there,” he said.

“Maybe next time.”

“Yeah.  Is he going to move to Boston?  He’s in San Jose, isn’t he?” Alex inquired.  He thought it’d be better if they stayed close, after everything that’s happened.

“I don’t know what he’s planning on doing.  It’s up to him, really.”

“I hope he decides to stay.  Eventually,” he confided.

“Me too, Alex,” Scott agreed.  “Me too.  In other news, you remember the kid Jean was talking about over thanksgiving dinner?”

“John?  What about him?”

“She wants to adopt him.”

“Wha-What?” he sputtered.  “How old is he?”  Not that age really mattered, Alex thought; every kid deserved to have a family and a place to call home.  It was just surprising.

“Fifteen, I think.  He’s still in the foster care system and she thinks it’s best that he has a stable home.”

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully.  As veterans of foster care, both Scott and Alex had certain reservations on how the system worked.  “What about Nate and Rachel?  Think they’d be able to get along?”

“I think Jean has to bring it up with John first.  He’s a bit . . . volatile.”

A chuckle, “Sounds like you’ve met him.”

“I have,” said Scott, and Alex could hear a faint amusement in his voice.  “He reminds me of you, actually.”

“That’s what I thought, too, when Jean was describing him,” he said softly.  “It was a little unnerving, to be honest.”

“Understandable.”

“So Jean’s gonna ask John if he wants in on the Summers’ crazy family, then what, introduce the kids to him?  What if that doesn’t go well?”

“Jean has her own way of handling sticky situations.”  Alex imagined Scott shrugging nonchalantly.  “She’ll probably want me there, anyway, just in case.  I trust her to be a good judge of character.”

“You’re lucky,” Alex blurted.  He heard Scott take in a sharp breath and he winced, “Shit, sorry.  I’m sorry.”

“No.  No, it’s okay,” Scott was quick to reassure.  He sighed, “I know.  I’m very lucky, and I’m never going to take it for granted again.”

“Yeah, well, I’d kill you if you did.  Jean would be right behind me,” he said, trying to add levity to their conversation.

“I know,” he said fondly.  “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long moment of silence before Scott spoke up again.  “Take care of yourself.”

And Alex knew what he was referring to without Scott having to spell it out in so many words.  “I will.  I’ll try.”  Though both of them also knew that nothing good could come out of Alex’s situation, and if anything, it’d have to get worse before it got better.  “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, later.”

They ended the conversation and Alex stared at the phone for what felt like hours, wondering if it was too late to save himself from heartbreak.

~*+=

Hank and Alex rendezvous at Alex’s apartment every, or every other week.  They always started with dinner, talking about everything and anything, and ended in the bedroom, limbs entangled and breaths intermingling.

Alex learned more and more about Hank’s life and, in turn, revealed some of his own past.  Apparently, Charles was one of his professors while he was studying for a second Masters degree in genetics – his first had been in biochemistry.  They had hit it off and became good friends (and, without Hank mentioning it, was how he met Raven).

Hank had skipped several grades due to his intellect and though his parents were relatively supportive of him and his endeavors, Hank was emotionally neglected.  He hadn’t had the proper care or upbringing for social situations, which resulted in his slight awkwardness.  In a way, Hank was denied a childhood.  Instead of playing in the dirt with his peers at five, he was learning about the building blocks of life in middle school.  And because he was a child genius, he was an outcast and never quite fit in – a teenager amongst adults.  (This also made Alex wonder how Hank managed to snag a woman like Raven, but he supposed Hank had a certain charm of his own.  Hell, it worked on Alex and Hank hadn’t even tried.)

Alex tentatively shared his experiences in foster care, but he could barely shut up when it came to Nate and Rachel.  He steered clear of getting into too much detail with his brothers and how they managed to find each other again after years of searching, and the only thing he said about his parents was that they had died in an accident.  Hank hadn’t asked him to elaborate and Alex was glad for that.

Months passed in this manner, and Alex was almost content.  But that was just Alex trying to convince himself that he was happy, that this was enough.  When, really, Alex felt like a shaken soda ready to burst.  Hank instilled so many different emotions in him: anger, fear, joy, _love_.  More than once, he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying those three forbidden words, though he so desperately wanted Hank to know.

Alex allowed Hank to take charge in all of their encounters because, he realized, Hank really did control him.  He was hopelessly in love with the man and if being “the other guy” was the only way Alex could have him, even if it was for awhile, even if it was just a fallacy, then Alex would do what he could to keep his well-constructed fantasy.

He’d started whispering _I love you_ each time Hank left the apartment, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to say it any other situation.  And if he closed his eyes and imagined, breathed in the lingering scent of Hank’s cologne, curl up against the still-warm pillows, he could believe that he was actually saying it to Hank and not to empty air.

Sometimes when they lay next to each other, silent, Alex could almost imagine that this was real, that Hank wasn’t married, that they were lovers.  _Lovers_.  The word sounded foreign to him.  Because he and Hank _weren’t_ lovers.  Not really.

The longer their affair continued, the more Alex realized how much a contradiction Hank was.  As much as he had admired Hank for embracing his inner geek, at the same time, Hank was refusing to be himself, to choose for himself.  And despite his awkwardness, Hank was actually extremely good at hiding his emotions.  Alex didn’t know what Hank felt about him, why he sometimes treated Alex like he loved him, why he was still with him when his wife was oblivious to his adultery.

(Who was Hank McCoy, really?  The shy scientist who looked hurt or offended each time Alex lost his temper and snap insults or the man who liked to give and receive dirty talk in bed?  The nerdy bookworm or the man secretly obsessed with antique cars and their restoration?  The man he was with Raven or the man he was with Alex?  They were all Hank, Alex knew, and the different facets of him was what made Hank that much more intriguing, that much harder to let him go, that much more human and real.)

It hurt more than he could imagine, but at the same time he had no one to blame but himself.  Because he was a contradiction, too.  As much as he hated feeling powerless, he was powerless to stop this emotionally trying and destructive relationship he had gotten himself into.  He loved Hank for everything he was and hated him for everything he wasn’t.  He wanted Hank for himself but let him go back to his wife every time, thinking that it was probably for the best, knowing that Hank wasn’t really _his_.

And Alex, even with all of his flaws and weaknesses, intricacies and fears . . . simply couldn’t leave him.  He had created this impossible situation and he couldn’t even bring himself to get out.  A part of him felt like he deserved the heartbreak, deserved to be unhappy.  But no, no one really _deserved_ anything.  His parents didn’t deserve to die, he didn’t deserve to be separated from Scott for nearly a decade, and Gabe’s existence didn’t deserve to be kept secret from them.  Scott probably didn’t even deserve to be forgiven after he’d cheated on Jean and Raven certainly didn’t deserve Hank cheating on her, either.

The similarities between his and Scott’s romantic relationships weren’t lost on Alex; he and Scott had alluded to it several times.  But it actually pained him to think about it.  The difference, he realized, was that Scott was braver than Alex.  He was able to stop before it was too late.  Alex was in far too deep and he wasn’t even sure that if he _did_ get out, if it would even make a difference.

Life was so damn complicated already and love complicated it further.

A kiss, a touch, even just a look or a smile would convince Alex that maybe everything would be okay, that the pain was worth every second of Hank’s warm presence.

But every time, Hank would say ‘I have to go’ and Alex would reply with ‘I know’.  Those words broke his heart time and again and the longer it went on, the harder it got.  He had to resist the urge to reach out and pull Hank back into bed and ask him to stay, tell him he loved him.  Ask him if he’d leave Raven for Alex.  Ask him what Hank felt about him, ask him if he cared.  Because Alex was left more broken with each passing encounter and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to ever piece himself back together.

And he wondered sometimes, if he said anything else, if he _asked_ Hank to stay, would he?  Hank had no reason to, but Alex thought that maybe _maybe_ there was something between them besides just the physical.

Raven was brought up once in conversation and Hank had been extremely uncomfortable and taciturn with his replies.  He was like a coiled spring and Alex could tell that there was more to Hank and Raven’s relationship than he was letting on.  As much as he wanted to know, he also _didn’t_.  Hank had implied in his veiled words that their marriage was on the brink of collapse, yet he refused to be the one to ask for a divorce.  Alex wanted to shout, “Why not?” and say, “Do it.  I love you.  Stay with me,” but he couldn’t.

He didn’t even know what was holding him back, preventing him from spilling the truth.  But for whatever reason, he simply couldn’t.

They never mentioned Raven or Hank’s marriage again.

And by the time Alex thought he was sure to explode from all the pressure, he realized how much he gave up just for the illusion of a little bit of happiness.

~*+=

“This is your fault, you know,” Alex said gulping down his scotch and glaring at Erik.  He hadn’t spoken to Erik about his and Hank’s non-relationship until now, months after and nearing the end of summer.  “Just ‘cause you wanted to fuck the brains out of Charles Xavier – who’s Hank’s _brother-in-law_ , for fuck’s sake – and you fucked up my life and emotional stability.  Thanks a whole fucking lot.”  He scowled darkly, pouring himself another round.  “I hope it was worth it for you, seeing as you two are disgustingly happy together.”

“I thought that if you got it out of your system, you’d get over it,” Erik admitted.

“Well obviously it fucking exploded, didn’t it?” Alex growled.

Erik pursed his lips.  “I’m sorry,” he managed to say, and Alex knew how difficult it was for Erik to apologize to anyone.  His stupid pride and all, and Alex felt vaguely triumphant that he wheedled out a genuine apology from him.

“You damn well better be,” he said, downing his second glass.

“I didn’t expect it to go this far.”  And Erik sounded truly remorseful.  Alex could just hear the underlying _I didn’t mean to hurt you_ in his words and Alex had half a mind to forgive him.  But he really couldn’t; the heart was too fragile to be taken lightly, and Erik (who _knew_ this), though indirectly, had played with it thoughtlessly.

He sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face.  “For the record, I didn’t either.  I can’t believe this is my life.”  A quiet, depreciating laugh, “I’m in love with a married man and you’re fucking his brother-in-law.  I mean, what the hell, seriously?  This kind of shit only happens in fiction.”

“Alex, sit down,” Erik said calmly, gesturing to one of the chairs in his office.

He did and reached for the scotch bottle but Erik snatched it away.  Alex glowered and resorted to pouting petulantly.  “Anything else you want to deprive me of, Lehnsherr?”

Erik gave him a steady look and Alex returned it, refusing to back down.  “Tony and I have made a deal with Hawaii Volcanoes National Park,” he said without preamble.  “Have you thought about your decision?”

Alex sucked in a startled breath; he knew that this was coming, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.  Even if Erik had told him about it almost a year ago.  “I don’t know,” he said.

“I think it’d be good for you,” he said honestly.  “To get away for a bit.  Focus on geophysics.”

“I – ” Alex fiddled with the empty tumbler in his hands.  It was a perfect opportunity to get out, to leave this fucked up life behind and start new.  But the thought of leaving Hank still made him feel . . . terrified, pained.  Not like _being_ with him while not really being with him hurt less but Alex had decided a while ago that he’d rather hurt being with Hank than be without him.

But could he really handle any more of this?  Alex was fantastic at bottling up his emotions, but there was only so much he could take.  He could feel the hurt, frustration, rage, and desperation bubbling just beneath his well-constructed façade, about to erupt with just the slightest provocation.  And maybe Erik was right; maybe he did need to get away for a bit.

“How long do I have until I have to decide?” he asked softly.

“Until the end of the year, but you may tell me your choice whenever you decide and you can fly out as soon as you want.”

Alex nodded.  “Okay.”

“You can come back anytime you want, too.”  Erik gave him a small smile.  “There’ll always be a place for you here.”

Alex returned the smile weakly.  “Thank you.”  And those words held more meaning than Erik probably acknowledged.

~*+=

It was a chilly night in mid-November when Alex snapped.  He didn't even know what triggered his outburst, but he did know that there was no turning back.

They were lounging on the sofa when Hank mentioned Charles and Erik, and thinking about his friend’s seemingly perfect relationship put a damper on his mood.

“Erik fucking Lehnsherr,” he drawled, sipping his glass of merlot.  “He’s a jerk off.”

Hank frowned, “Why do you say that?”

Alex was very nearly drunk, having polished off nearly two bottles by himself, which made his tongue loose with honesty.  “Because you happened.”

Startled, Hank’s eyes widened.  “What?”

“You fucking happened,” Alex reiterated, finishing his glass and putting it on the coffee table. He gave Hank a hard stare and the brunet shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t understand,” he said hesitantly.

“Of course you don’t fucking understand, you’re not the one who has to watch the best and worst thing that’s happened in your life walk in and out of it as he pleases!” he scowled.  “How do you do it?  Fuck me and pretend you care only to go back home to your _wife_ ,” he spat the last word in distaste.  “To a marriage that’s falling apart.  You’re a fucking asshole for deceiving her, and I’m not saying that I don’t share the guilt, but fuck, Hank, you started it.”

He stood suddenly and ran an agitated hand through his hair, started to pace the room.  His inebriated brain wanted him to plow forward, to unleash all the emotions he had kept under the surface.  He turned back to face Hank, whose eyes were wide in fear or shock; Alex wasn’t sure which.  And Alex said the words he told himself he should never say.

“I love you.”

Hank sucked in a startled breath and ducked his head, breaking eye contact.  Alex growled angrily.  “I don’t fucking know why when you’re such a fucking coward.  I fucking love you while you go on pretending that it’s okay to have a wife and fuck buddy.  I don’t even understand why or how or fucking _anything_ anymore."

He felt himself shaking but he strode forward and forcefully gripped Hank’s shoulder and forced the brunet to look at him.  “Tell me what you’re thinking, Hank.”

Alex stared him down, the wine giving him courage.  Hank’s eyes were wide, frightened, but Alex couldn’t read anything else in those blue irises.  “It won’t work,” was what Hank finally said.

“Why not?” he said icily, eyes narrowing further.

“It just won’t.”

“Why, because you’re married?  Because I’m just a fuck buddy?  Well, here’s a news flash for you, bozo: in spite of everything I wanted to believe that there was something more,” he said, feeling vulnerable with his confession.  He straightened, letting Hank go.  “I’ve fallen in love with you and it’s too late to change that.”

“I can’t – ” Hank started shakily.

“Can’t.  What?!” he screamed, unable to contain himself any longer.  “Who the fuck are you to say what I can or cannot do?  We do things we can’t despite _knowing_ we’re not supposed to.  And _you_ for all your esteemed _genius_ say that you _can’t_ , that _I_ can’t.  I fucking hate that word.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No you’re not.”

“I am!”

“Then why are you still here?” Alex snapped.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Haven’t you sorted out your marriage yet?  That’s the only reason why this started, right?  It’s been nearly a year.”  He’s trying so hard to be diplomatic, _so hard_ to understand.

“I – no.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed.  “Why not?”  Silence.  “Have you even been trying?” he growled angrily.  Still no answer.  “Then why?”

Hank shifted uncomfortably, fingers fiddling in his lap.  “I may be more emotionally inclined towards you more than I ought to,” he said.

“What.  The fuck.  You are _not_ allowed to use such vague terminology in this sort of situation, McCoy.”  Damn, did he just use the word ‘terminology’ while drunk?  Hank’s nerdiness must be rubbing off on him.

“I –”

“No!” Alex shouted, shutting Hank up.  “You don’t even love her anymore, do you?”  Hank ducked his head again and that was all the answer he needed.  Alex almost wanted to ask if he _ever_ loved her, but he refrained.  “Then why the hell are you still with her?”  Hank mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch, but he swore he thought he heard ‘parents’ and ‘disapprove’.  “You’re more fucked up than I am, you know that?  And people say _I’m_ the emotionally stunted one.  How d’you think you can get your parents to accept you when you can’t even seem to fucking accept yourself?”

 _That_ got a reaction out of the brunet.  “You don’t know anything,” Hank’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“No, but of course not.  ‘Cause my parents are dead,” he responded harshly.  Hank softened marginally, but Alex plowed on.  “You’re a fucking walking contradiction, I don’t understand you at all.  _Still_.”

He stared hard at Hank for long moments, but it looked like the fight had left the brunet.  When Hank said nothing else but stare at his hands in his lap, Alex scowled.  “You know what?  Fine.  Whatever.”  He picked up his jacket from the couch’s armrest and pocketed his keys.  “Let yourself out,” he snapped coldly, striding to the door.  “Goodbye, McCoy,” he said with as much conviction he could muster, and he left before he could convince himself otherwise.

~*+=

He drove to Boston.  The four-hour drive was more than enough time for him to nearly have a mini-break down; he had to stop midway to regain his composure to prevent an accident.  By the time he was at Scott’s door, he was barely clinging on.  Alex pounded on the door, heedless to the fact that it was past midnight.

The door opened after a few long minutes and Alex had resorted to pacing restlessly while he waited.  Thankfully it was Scott who opened the door and when he saw the state Alex was in, his eyes widened in shock and sympathy.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late.  But I just, I can’t – I just can’t.  I’m sorry,” he babbled, fists clenched and still staunchly refusing to cry.  “Can I stay?”

“Of course, Alex,” Scott said, bringing a hand up to grip his shoulder, and Alex let out a breathless sob.

“I told him I loved him,” he blurted.

“What did he say?” Scott asked softly, steering Alex to the sofa.

“‘It won’t work’,” he said, grimacing and scowling at the same time.

Scott sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“He’s so fucking confusing.”  Alex collapsed onto the couch, curling into himself.  “I don’t understand him.”

Scott sat on the armrest and ran a comforting hand through his hair.  He was silent, and Alex knew that there wasn’t much he _could_ say.  Alex was grateful, anyway; he was glad he had someone to turn to when he needed it, wouldn’t judge him for his mistakes.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbled, burying his face in the cushions.

“Then sleep.  You can stay as long as you need to.  I’ll try and keep the kids from waking you tomorrow, okay?”

Alex sighed and nodded his thanks.  He was already half asleep when he felt Scott tuck a duvet around him and slip a pillow under his head.  Alex snuggled into the covers and fell into a dreamless slumber.

When he woke, the apartment was quiet and the sun was streaming in through the windows.  He glanced at the clock and cursed silently; it was past noon (did he really sleep for that long?) and he hadn’t told Erik that he wasn’t coming into work today.  Maybe for the rest of the week.

He fumbled out of the covers and staggered to the phone, dialing Erik’s cell.  Erik picked up almost immediately, probably recognizing Scott’s caller ID – he had programed it in Erik’s phone a long time ago for emergency purposes only.

“Is he okay?  What happened?” was the first words out of Erik’s usually caustic mouth, and Alex had to smile.

“I’m fine, Erik.”

“Alex, for fuck’s sake,” Erik said, relief bleeding through the receiver.

“I’m sorry, I just – ” he cut himself off at bit his lip.  “I told him.”

A long, breathy sigh.  “I take it didn’t go well,” he said dryly, but with a hint of concern.

Alex let out a humorless chuckle.  “No, it didn’t.  Can I take the day off?”

“Of course, Alex.”  That was the second time that phrase was used in an admonishing yet fond tone.  “You can take as many days as you want.”

“And Erik?”  Alex took a deep breath before plunging in.  “I’ll take the job.  In Hawaii.”  It was impulsive, Alex knew, but it wasn’t as if he _hadn’t_ been contemplating it for the past few weeks.

There was silence on the other line and he could practically hear the gears in Erik’s mind turning.  “All right,” he said finally.  “Come by my apartment when you can and we’ll talk.”

“Okay.  Thank you.”

Another pregnant pause, then, “I’ll clean out your desk so you don’t have to come in.  You can start on your apartment.”

“Fucking hell, Erik, I’m not about to _break_ ,” he accused.

“No, but you’re damn well close to it.”  Alex scowled into the phone, knowing that Erik was right.  “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Alex sighed, “Yeah, okay.”  He ended the conversation and placed the phone back on its cradle.

The rest of the day constituted of Alex staring off into nothing in a mindless stupor as he tried to rebuild his cracking walls.  He eventually snuck into Jean and Scott’s room and snitched Scott’s laptop (and some clean clothes) and brought it out to the sofa.  He might as well get started on looking for an apartment in Hilo and selling (or renting out) the one in New York.   The majority of his stuff he’ll probably put into storage.  He debated for a while on what he should do with his car, but he decided he’d ask Scott if he wanted it; he had wanted to upgrade their Accord for a while, and his Audi was more spacious (though maybe not as practical).

Hours had passed and when he finally heard the lock turn, he had zoned out again.  His focus snapped back into the present and he placed the laptop aside, standing to greet whoever was coming home first; it was probably Jean since Scott had odd hours at the radio station.  Sure enough, Jean and the kids entered and Alex strode forward to hold open the door.

Jean smiled at him, “Thanks.”

He bent down to pick up Rachel, who was tugging on his shirt, and she immediately snuggled into his embrace.  Both Nate and Rachel were awfully quiet, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at the redheaded woman.  She shrugged and smiled, “Scott told them to keep quiet this morning so they wouldn’t wake you up.  Kind of threatened them, really.  But I think they know.”  And she gave him a look saying that the kids have inherited Jean’s knack for reading people.

“Daddy said you weren’t feeling well,” Rachel said against his neck.

“I’m feeling better now, sweetheart.”

“You sure?” she asked, looking at him with large, doleful eyes.

Alex smiled, “I’m sure.”

“Uncle Alex?” Nate said.

He turned to his nephew, “Yeah, squirt?”  And Alex was startled when the boy wrapped his short arms around his waist – somehow avoiding his sister’s dangling legs – and gave him a fierce hug.  He just as abruptly released him and ran to his bedroom.  Alex looked at Jean in askance and she laughed.

“I think he’s taking to heart what I told him a few days ago, that sometimes when someone’s feeling down, they just needs a hug to feel better.”

Alex chuckled, “Pretty good advice, I’d say.”  He put Rachel down.  “Go do your homework before dinner, okay?”

She nodded and padded after her brother and Alex watched her fondly.

“Scott hasn’t told me much, but I can tell it’s something emotional.”

Alex sighed and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his borrowed sweatpants.  “Yeah, it is.  But I don’t want to talk about it.  I have it under control.”

Jean peered at him making Alex feel a bit discomfited; sometimes he thought that she could totally read his mind.  “Would you like to help me with dinner?”

“I would love to,” he said, smiling.

They made their way to the kitchen and she instructed him to cut the vegetables and chatted amicably.  “You missed Gabe during the holidays,” she said.

“I know, Scott told me.  I’m glad he finally came to visit.”

She nodded, “He’s warming up to the idea and he’s beginning to forgive.  It just takes time.”  Alex hummed in acknowledgement.  “Did Scott also tell you that Gabe’s taken in an orphan?  It seems Summers’ have a soft spot for street urchins,” she smiled warmly.

“No, he didn’t,” Alex blinked in surprise.  “Gabe adopted a kid?”

“Well, Bobby’s fourteen, but yes.  He’s lovely and will grow up to be a handsome man.”

Alex’s lip twitched in amusement.  “Isn’t Gabe only twenty-two?  And he’s raising a teenager?  Sounds exhausting.”

Jean laughed, “Bobby’s actually very well behaved, nothing compared to John.  I think he’s just grateful he has a stable home and a father figure.”

“Speaking of John, how has that been going?  Have you sorted out the paperwork for him yet?”

It was Jean’s turn to sigh.  “It’s been difficult.  We’re going to have to move to a bigger house, too, once everything is in order.  Hopefully John will come home in time for thanksgiving then we can all be together as a family.”  She flashed him a smirk, “Don’t tell him I told you this, but he adores Rachel.  Absolutely dotes on her.  I think she makes him truly believe that he can be a protector instead of an instigator.  And Nate thinks of him as competition; it’s quite amusing.  Of course, Nate secretly admires John and John feels a little awkward about being held in such high regard but I think it’ll be good for him. ”

Alex laughed, “God, I can’t even imagine how crazy this house is going to get.”

Jean smiled, “It’s going to be great.  You’ll be coming for thanksgiving, right?”

“Of course,” he said, startled at the question.

Jean nodded, still smiling, “Gabe said he’s definitely going to come this year; he loves Nate and Rachel and so does Bobby.”

Alex smiled widely, genuinely, “Our family’s growing quite large, isn’t it?"

“Yes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Me neither.”

They lapsed into companionable silence until Scott came home and the children ran to greet him.  Dinner was nearly ready by then and Alex set the table as Jean put the finishing touches.  As they ate, Alex thought how easy and relaxed this was; though the image of Hank had been looming in the back of his mind the whole day, being with his family calmed him significantly.

And he leaned back in his seat, a smile playing on his lips, content.

~*+=

The following morning, he woke early enough to tell the kids that he’d be leaving later in the afternoon.  Alex reassured them that he was all right and promised that he’d see them for thanksgiving the following week.  While Jean handled the kids and their breakfast, Alex pulled Scott into the bedroom, wanting to talk to him in private.  He had to tell Scott about Hawaii, and he’d rather do it sooner rather than later.

“I was promoted,” Alex said without preamble.

A series of emotions flashed in Scott’s eyes: shock, suspicion, realization, acceptance.  “But?” he asked, cutting to the heart of it.

Alex took a breath, “I’m being relocated to Hawaii.”

Scott studied him for long moments and Alex refused to fidget.  “You’re conflicted,” Scott said, stating the obvious.

“It’s for the best.”  At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.  He wanted to go to Hawaii, he wanted to leave Hank and all of those memories behind, and he refused to acknowledge the ache in his chest.

He pursed his lips.  “Alex, as much as I admire you for getting yourself out of this situation . . .” he trailed off.  “Are you absolutely sure?”

Alex nodded, trying to exude more confidence than he truly felt.  “I am.  As much as I love him,” he faltered a bit on the word ‘love’ and he felt like something had fisted at his heart and was ripping it out.  “I can’t do this anymore.  I won’t.”  Scott placed a strong hand on his shoulder.  Only then did Alex realize that he was trembling.  Damn, and he thought that he’d spent enough time reconstructing his shields yesterday, but he was obviously still fragile and broken.  “I – ”  His eyes darted to Scott’s then his gaze fell and a pathetically heartbroken sound managed to escape him.

“Shhh,” Scott murmured, pulling Alex into a tight embrace and Alex returned it immediately, fiercely trying in vain to prevent his emotions from leaking through his fragmented walls.  A shuddering breath, a choked sob, and he was squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his fingers into Scott’s shirt in an attempt to hold on to his last vestiges of control.  Scott continued to whisper comforting words in his ear, rubbing his back soothingly.  “It’s okay.  It’s going to be okay.”  And Alex desperately wanted to believe him, if not for the painful wrenching of his heart.

It took awhile for Alex to calm, and Jean, with her uncanny ability to _know_ had left to take the kids to school, leaving Alex and Scott alone.  They had relocated to sitting on the edge of the bed, and Alex leaned on Scott’s shoulder, eyes closed trying to compose himself.  Scott kept a comforting arm around Alex’s waist, cheek resting on his head.  “’M sorry,” Alex mumbled.

“You’re all right, Alex,” Scott replied, equally as quiet.  “You’re fine.”

Alex managed a weak chuckle.  “Yeah.  I will be.”

He felt Scott nod against his head then pull away gently.  “Breakfast?”

Alex smiled, “Okay.”

They made their way to the kitchen where Jean had left food out on the table for the two brothers.  Sitting down, they dug in and ate in silence.  Alex eventually started to talk about the basics of the Hawaii project simply to keep his mind occupied on other things, and remembered to ask if Scott wanted his car.  Scott refused, instead suggesting he ask Gabe; the oldest and youngest brothers were actually becoming quite close, especially after the proverbial breaking-of-ice last Christmas.  It seemed a bit odd, since their age gap was significant, even more than Scott and Alex’s, but Scott always had been more of a people person.  Alex was most decidedly not; but it wasn’t to say he didn’t try.

Apparently, Gabe had also been contemplating moving to the east coast after Bobby graduated high school the following year.  Though Alex was glad to hear that their youngest brother would be closer to them, it was also a bit ironic seeing as Alex was also moving halfway around the world in a month’s time.

Around ten o’clock, Scott started getting ready for work and Alex followed him out.  He thanked Scott for letting him stay on such short notice and the brunet simply waved it away and gave him a warm hug.  Alex returned it, still feeling a bit fragile but better than before.

The drive back to New York wasn’t as gut wrenching as he had thought it would be.  When he arrived in the city, he immediately made his way to Erik’s, sending him a text while idling at a stoplight.  The return message was snarky and short, and Alex rolled his eyes.

Alex let himself in with the spare key Erik had given him and poured himself two fingers of schnapps.  He stared out of the floor to ceiling windows, waiting for Erik’s return.  The lock clicked when he was taking in the last gulp of his drink.  He turned and made his way back to the kitchen, placing the glass in the sink.

“Made yourself at home, did you?”  Alex shrugged.  “I have some paperwork you have to fill out, then we’ll talk about the schematics.”

Alex took a seat on the couch and Erik joined him, handing him a folder.  He nodded and started to quickly and efficiently fill out the necessary information.

“You’ll have to come into the office at least once before you leave,” Erik says.  Alex glances up but continues to fill out the forms.  “For professional reasons, of course.”

“What, paperwork isn’t professional enough for you?”

Erik smirked, “Never.  Tony and I will just have to formally appoint you as head of the Hawaii project.  The project itself is still a secret and the general public won’t know for another year or more.  Though knowing Tony, he may let something slip within a few months.”

“Well, that’s Stark for you,” he said, completing the last page and handing them back to Erik.  “So, air transportation, apartment, facilities?” he asked, jumping right into it.

“Stark and I will take care of your airfare and apartment; you won’t have to worry about furnishings and we’ll provide you with a car.”  Alex raised a dubious eyebrow and if Erik were the type to roll his eyes, he would’ve.  “It’s perfectly legitimate; you’ll still have to pay rent, after all.”  Alex snorted at this and Erik smirked.  “You’ll be working with the geologists of the park and helping them study Kilauea, as well as Loihi.”

Alex nodded.  “How’s their equipment and technology?”

“I’m not completely sure, but you’ll manage.”

“Thanks for that,” Alex responded sarcastically.

Erik pinned him with a piercing stare and Alex met it, almost wanting to snark at him, just to see how he’d react.  But he kept silent and waited.

“It’ll be different without you here,” he said finally.

Alex’s eyes widened in surprise.  The older man was completely serious and genuine.  It wasn’t often Erik was so transparent.  He was blunt, sure, sometimes on the verge of being cruel and when he did speak his mind, he was always brutally honest.  But when it came to matters of the heart, of _emotions_ , he was usually so clandestine.

“You’ll be all right,” he managed to say, his throat suddenly tight.  “You have Charles now.”

A slight quirk of his lip, “I suppose so.”  He put the folder into his briefcase.  “When are you thinking about leaving?”

Alex considered his answer for a moment.  “After Christmas; I didn’t get to spend it with Scott last year so it’s the least I can do before I move halfway around the world.”

Erik nodded, “Fair enough.”  He stood and Alex followed suit, “I’ll tell you when we purchase your tickets.”

“What, no private jet?” Alex smirked, as they made their way to the door.

“Tony may insist, but I really don’t think that will be necessary, do you?”

Alex shrugged, “Never done it before so I wouldn’t know.”

He chuckled, “We’ll see.”

“Seriously?”

“Maybe.”

“Sweet.”

“Now, I have to go back to the office and you have to sort out your apartment.”

“Yeah, all right,” Alex grumbled, following Erik into the hallway.

“I’ll call you when Tony’s going to come in, just so we can get the last formality out of the way.”

“Okay.”  They waited for the elevator in silence before Alex spoke up again.  “Does Charles ever mention Hank and Raven to you?”

Erik looked over at him and frowned.  “Don’t dwell on it, Alex.”

“I’m just curious,” he said defensively.  The furthest left elevator dinged and they got on.

He sighed, “I try not to mention you too often since I’m still your boss, but he knows you are a friend.  He does speak of Hank sometimes, especially in regards to how intelligent he is, and he absolutely adores his sister.”  Erik eyed him closely, “But their marriage has been on the rocks for awhile, he seems a bit stressed by it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the reason why he came to me in the first place,” he glowered.  The elevator reached the lobby and they both stepped out and headed for the entrance.  Alex was lucky and had found parking in front of the building, and he strolled towards it, unlocking the doors.

“Alex,” Erik called, and he turned.  “I don’t know why or what his reasons are but I think that there’s more to the situation than you may know.”

His brow furrowed, “Like what?”

Erik clapped him firmly on the shoulder and gave him an indulgent smile, but he didn’t answer Alex’s query.

Sometimes Alex really hated Erik’s secrecy.

~*+=

It was thanksgiving again, and Alex was having the strangest sense of déjà vu.  Except with the addition of three more people at the table.  Alex finally met John who looked wary but accepted the fact that he was Scott’s brother and were essentially family now.  He gave Gabe a fierce hug; they haven’t seen each other since after Scott and Alex had found him after years of searching.  Then he was introduced to Bobby, who was, as Jean had said, very polite, soft-spoken, and kind.

Dinner was vastly different from the previous year.  Conversations overlapped and there was more joviality overall.  The chaos of his bigger family made Alex smile widely, and let him forget his problems for a while.

Later in the night, when the Nate and Rachel were put to sleep, the teens and the adults sat in the living room chatting.  Bobby and John seemed to hit it off, and Alex thought they’d be good for each other; Bobby would ground John and John would show Bobby what the world had to offer (or not offer).

Jean later took Bobby and John to the room, leaving the brothers to their own devices.

No one said anything for a while, so Alex said the first thing that came to his mind.  “Scott told me that you’re thinking about moving to the east coast.”

Gabe glanced at him and nodded.  “I figure it’d be better for us to be closer together.”

Alex winced; he thought the same, but then Hank happened and all he wanted to do (for now) was to run away.  “Yeah, about that.”  He glanced at Scott and he gave him an encouraging smile.  Alex turned back to Gabe who was giving him a confused look.  “I’ve been promoted at my job, but I’m being relocated to Hawaii.”

“Wow.”  Gabe blinked, looking torn between saying ‘congratulations’ and lamenting the inopportune timing that he and Alex had – just when they could truly start becoming a family again, Alex was moving nearly halfway around the world.

He smiled, “Yeah.  Scott hasn’t told me much, but he said that you just recently graduated with a bachelor’s degree in engineering?”

Gabe nodded, “Finding a job here in New York will be difficult, I think.”

Alex nibbled his bottom lip.  “Actually,” he started said hesitantly.  “You could apply to the company I’m with.”

“Eisenhardt Enterprises?” he asked, and Alex smiled in affirmative.  “Wouldn’t I need at least a Masters to be considered for a position?”

“No, Erik is always looking for junior engineers.  He waited to hire me because I had a specific skill set.”

“ _Erik_?” Gabe said, incredulous.  “You call your boss by his first name?”

Alex sucked in a startled breath at the near exact words Hank had asked him almost a year ago.  He recovered quickly and said, “We’ve known each other for a awhile, before he was my boss.”

“Alex,” Scott said, his expression serious yet concerned; of course he’d notice his reaction, imperceptible to anyone else who didn’t know him well enough to read him properly.

He shook his head plaintively.  “I’m fine.  It’s fine, I’m okay."

Gabe looked between the two brothers, confused, and Alex pursed his lips.  Scott raised a questioning eyebrow.  Alex sighed and diverted his eyes.  There was no point in keeping Gabe out of the loop; they were family, after all.

He turned to Gabe, met his gaze and started, “There’s this biochemist at Eisenhardt whom I was having an affair with . . . ”  And Alex told his story, somehow managing to get through it straight-faced and passive.  Halfway through, Scott had gotten up from his chair across the room and sat next to Alex on the sofa, taking his slightly trembling hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly.  Alex flashed him a grateful smile and he held on until he was finished.

Gabe took his story in stride and Alex was glad for it.  He had alluded to Scott’s own affair with Emma but it wasn’t Alex’s place to reveal the details, and Gabe didn’t ask and Scott didn’t offer.  Gabe joined them on the sofa, Alex squished in between his two brothers, and they passed the time in amicable silence.

Alex’s right hand was still holding onto Scott’s, and neither pulled away.  Eventually, Alex lifted his left hand and placed it on Gabe’s right, gripping gently.  He smiled and said softly, “Welcome to the family.”

~*+=

The rest of December passed smoothly with his one trip back to the office.  Alex wasn’t exactly one to avoid confrontations, but he really didn’t want to see Hank again.  He was glad that he wouldn’t have to go down to the labs where the scientist usually holed himself up even when Alex was still going to work.  (Erik had allowed him an indefinite leave of absence until he flew to Hawaii.  But Alex contemplated going back to the lab to tinker, mainly because he got extremely bored at home, doing nothing.)  So he headed up to Erik’s office as swiftly as he could.  The meeting with Stark and Erik was anything _but_ formal – again, that was Stark for you – and Alex was on his way back to the apartment within an hour.

Basically, Alex was to be the program manager and the middleman until the project was made public.  After that, more of Erik and Stark’s employees would be transferred and others professionals from the islands hired.  He would be the sole representative of the companies until the project was officially announced.

As he was going through the lobby, he was chatting politely with Stark when he caught a glimpse of a white lab coat, horned rimmed glasses and dark floppy hair.  Before he could stop himself, he turned and locked gazes with Hank McCoy.  His blue eyes were wide in shock, confusion, and – dare he say? – hurt.  Alex continued on, breaking their contact after a few seconds and answered Stark’s question as calmly as he could.

But really, his heart was hammering painfully against his chest, his limbs were trembling, and his breathing was erratic.  Stark seemed to notice asked him if he was all right.

“Fine,” he mumbled.  “I’m fine.”

Stark glanced over his shoulder to where Hank was standing and shrugged.  “If you say so.”  And he said nothing else, though Alex was sure that he dearly wanted to put in his two cents; Stark wasn’t the type to not tease and cajole, but Alex also supposed that Pepper Potts was a good influence on him.

“He had a nice ass, though,” Stark said as they parted ways.  Alex twitched and he knew he shouldn’t have given Stark the benefit of the doubt.  And Stark laughed when Alex gave him a dangerous look.  Alex wished that he could punch the man in the face, and almost regretted signing a joint contract with him.  Almost.

~*+=

When Christmas Eve rolled around, Alex was second-guessing his choice but he shook the feeling away and focused on spending time with and enjoying his reconstructed family.  When everyone turned in for the night, Alex was happy.  But he still felt an emptiness in his heart, which he knew only Hank would be able to fill.

And Alex hated how much he loved him.

~*+=


	3. Love Me

**_III. Love Me_ **

_Love without pain isn’t really romance  
_ _Röyksopp – Only This Moment_

~*+=

Nearly one year later and Alex had settled into Hilo quite nicely.  His new colleagues were fantastic and he enjoyed studying Kilauea and its energy potential.  He’d call Scott and Gabe often to catch up, and Erik updated him periodically on anything business related, and very rarely his personal life.  Though Hilo was a little too quiet for his tastes, he could overlook the monotony by focusing on his work.

Scott and Jean had moved to a new apartment and John had easily integrated into the Summers’ family dynamics.  Gabe and Bobby were planning on moving to the East coast as soon as Bobby graduated high school, and Gabe had applied, met, and was hired by Erik; he’d start work the following summer after he was moved and settled.  Apparently John and Bobby were getting closer than ever, too.  Alex was glad that his family was doing well but he still missed them.

Alex still had a hard time sleeping sometimes, his mind lingering on what ifs and what could have been, and his traitorous thoughts wandered back to Hank and his eyes.  Always his eyes; they were what had drawn him to Hank in the first place.  He wondered how he was doing sometimes and would almost ask Erik for updates, but he’d stop himself before the words could even make it to his tongue.

Because he still remembered the hurt and how helpless he felt whenever he was with him.  And he really didn’t want to feel that way again.

The night he had ended it, Alex had said ‘goodbye’ and to him, that was finality.  Nothing could transcend ‘goodbye’; that’s why Scott and Alex (even Erik) – and now Gabe – never said the word to each other.  ‘Goodbye’ was a way for Alex to shut Hank out of his life for good.  ‘Goodbye’ was another way of Alex saying ‘I’ll never see you again’ and though it still pained Alex to be without Hank, Alex knew that it was for the better, and tried to convince himself that the pain _without_ him was more bearable.

And he tried to believe it.  He tried to believe that he was over Hank and his impossibly blue eyes, his shy yet endearing smile, his smooth voice.  Because believing otherwise would test the walls he had tried so hard to reconstruct.  And for a while, everything was okay.  Alex was moving on.

But then the impossible happened: Hank came back into his life.

Erik had called one day out of the blue telling him that he was coming to visit the facility in Hawaii.  It was a surprising announcement, but what really threw Alex off-kilter was how soon he was arriving and whom he was bringing.

So when Erik strolled into his office a few days after the phone call like nobody’s business, with Charles Xavier, Sean Cassidy, and Hank McCoy in tow, Alex very nearly had a heart attack.

Alex took in the sight of Hank greedily, guiltily, and the dull ache in his chest suddenly surged through him uncontrolled.  Hank was in his usual khakis and button down, looking a bit uncomfortable.  Then he met Hank’s eyes and he forgot to breathe.  Pain, hope, and fear flashed in those eyes and Alex had to tear his gaze away to compose himself.

Erik said something that Alex barely registered, but his voice was enough for Alex to snap back into the present.

“Hold your fucking horses, Erik,” his eyes narrowing, heart beating erratically in his chest.  “A moment, if you will?”  He glanced pointedly at the three other men in the room then to the door, and thankfully Charles was the first to catch on and ushered Sean and Hank outside.

Once the door clicked shut, he turned on Erik angrily.  “You’re a fucking shithead, I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Alex,” Erik sighed.

“You’re an asshole.  Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he barreled on.  “What the hell is going on?  You fucking _know_ that I’m still trying to get over him!” he nearly yelled the last part, but had enough tact to rein himself in; he didn’t want anyone to overhear him.  Though he was probably sounding just short of hysterical.

“He’s the best biochemist we have, Alex.  And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I knew that you’d reject the idea if I did.”

“No shit,” he growled.  “What the hell are he and Cassidy doing here anyway?  And did you really have to bring Charles with you?  I mean, seriously.”

Erik sighed, “The board of directors have been hounding Tony and I about the reports you’ve been sending us.  They’ve been ‘unsatisfactory’ to keep the project going.”

“What do you mean ‘unsatisfactory’?  Our results are amazing.”  He frowned, contemplative.  “There’s so much potential here.  And all those times we talked about the project, you said everything was fine,” he said accusingly.

“Everything _was_ fine.  But the positive results may very well be our downfall.  Harnessing geothermal energy is still dangerous, and there are critics out there who accuse us of possibly causing more eruptions and earthquakes with the work you’re doing.”

“But that’s bullshit.  I mean, yeah it’s difficult to harness and control the earth but there are bound to be side effects.  The repercussions we’ve recorded so far aren’t anything to be concerned about; they’re minor.”

“The ‘so far’ is what the critics are worried about,” Erik conceded.

“All right.  Fine.  Perfect,” he groused, rubbing a hand over his face.  “This is a nightmare.”

“I’m sorry Alex, but I just need you to work with him for at least six months, then I can pull either or both of you out.”

“Six fucking months?” he groaned.  “That’s torture, Erik.  And what’s the fucking point of pulling him out if he’s the best and he’s already here?”  He buried his face in his hands, “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Alex,” Erik said softly.  “Please.”

He glanced up and scowled, hating it when Erik did that to him, because Erik _never_ said ‘please’ and he’d even said ‘I’m sorry’ with ease which means that the reasons why Erik had brought Hank to Hawaii was pretty fucking serious.  “Fine,” he finally relented.  “But don’t expect anything good to come out of it.”

Erik gave him a small smile.  “Thank you.”

“I still haven’t forgiven you,” he said after a moment, standing and moving towards the door; he had to show Hank and Sean the labs, wanting to get it over with.

“I know,” said Erik.  “But you may want to hear his side of the story first.”

Alex snorted, “What, you have?”

“Yes.”

He paused and turned to face Erik again.  “What?”

“Ask him.”

Alex frowned.  “I can’t.  You know I can’t.”

“I know what he did wasn’t fair – ” Alex mumbled ‘no shit’ under his breath, but Erik ignored him “ – But he had his reasons.”

“Everyone has their reasons, Erik.  It doesn’t mean that they’re right.”  And he knew that he was also referring to himself, of his own choices.

Erik sighed, “I know.  But weren’t you the one who schooled me on forgiveness?”

Alex eyed him speculatively.  He had, he remembered.  It was shortly after he found out about Scott’s affair with Emma, and though Alex had resented Scott for months, he couldn’t stay angry with him.  He was family, he was his brother, he loved him.  Just like when Scott had found him after a decade apart, Alex, though bitter, had been internally happy beyond belief.  Because, after so long of being in foster care, he finally had someone he could truly call family.  But how could he forgive Hank for his transgressions?  This kind of hurt was so vastly different from the pain he felt from Scott’s mistakes; Hank’s had hit him hard at his core while Scott’s were indirect.

He didn’t think he was ready to forgive.  Not yet.  And Alex knew that he would.  Eventually.  Because they were only human and everyone makes a wrong choice once in awhile.  No one was perfect.  “Charles has been a good influence on you,” he finally said.

Another small, secretive smile, “He has."

“You going to tell me why he’s here, too?”

“He wanted to come.  And he knows more than you think.”

Alex sighed, “Well that’s fantastic.”

Erik chuckled, “You’ll see.”  Before Alex could question him, Erik strode forward and pulled open the door, stepping out into the hallway.  Charles, Sean, and Hank were chatting amicably (or rather, Charles was gesticulating enthusiastically about mutations and genetics) while Sean looked half bored and Hank had an amused smile on his lips.  They all looked up when Erik made his way to Charles and pat the shorter man endearingly on the head.  “You don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said fondly.

Charles pouted cutely then turned to Alex, expression changing to a bright and easy smile.  “It’s good to see you again, Alex.  It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Alex replied smoothly, gladly latching onto the distraction, though a bit discomfited that this man was Hank’s brother-in-law.  “I was just going to show Cassidy and McCoy the labs, if you wanted to see as well?”

“Oh, that’d be splendid!” Charles said, eyes lighting up.

Alex nodded and turned to show them the way.  He felt Hank’s gaze burn the back of his head but he staunchly ignored it; he wasn’t ready, and he probably wouldn’t be for a while.

~*+=

A week later, Erik announced that he and Charles were heading back to New York.  He had set Hank and Sean up with their apartments and duties – though Alex was still head of the program – and he could only trust Tony so much to ensure his company was running properly; Alex suspected that Pepper and Emma were probably doing most of the work.

The day before their departure, Charles surprisingly asked him if he could speak with him in private.  Curious yet nervous, Alex invited him to his office for some privacy.  The door clicked shut behind him and Alex offered Charles a drink.

“No thank you, Alex.  I apologize in advance if this is untoward, but I wanted to talk to you about Hank.”

Alex stiffened then let out a breath.  “What about him?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and avoiding Charles’ gaze.

“You still love him.”

His head snapped up at that, eyes wide.  “I don’t – ” he faltered.  He pursed his lips and clenched his hands into fists in an attempt to cease his sudden trembling.  Alex sat on the edge of his desk, frowning.  “Erik said you knew more than you let on.  So how much _do_ you know?”

Charles gave him a small smile.  “Enough,” he said vaguely.  “I don’t blame you, neither am I one to judge.  But Alex, he loves you, too.”

“No he doesn’t,” he refuted, maybe a bit too quickly.

The older man sighed.  “It’s not really my place to reveal this, but Hank’s parents are . . . controlling.  They pushed him hard into something that I don’t think he was quite ready for.  He loves biochemistry, there’s no doubt about it, but his parents were too caught up in Hank’s genius that they overlooked the child that craved their acceptance and pride.

“When I met him, he was already molded into a mindset to please others before pleasing himself.”  Charles shook his head.  “It’s not to say that selflessness is a bad thing, but for Hank’s sake, he never knew what it was like to take happiness for himself.  It was heartbreaking.”

Alex was silent and Charles fixed him with a sad look.  “Raven was the first to understand him.  _Truly_ understand him.  I found her on the street, you know.  She didn’t even know who her birth parents are.  I brought her home with me and convinced my mother to adopt her by any means possible.  But mother never fully accepted Raven as her own, no matter how much she tried to be whoever mother wanted her to be.  She eventually gave up, thankfully.  And the bold young woman you met a few times is who she grew into without constraints, without the desire to satisfy someone else, without longing for acceptance.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Alex suddenly asked, his brow furrowed.

“Because I don’t want the best thing that’s happened to Hank slip away.  His one chance at true happiness.”  And Charles looked so sure of himself, so honest.

“What about _my_ happiness?” he said defiantly.

Charles gave him an indulgent smile.  “May or may not be with Hank in your life, and the decision is completely yours.  I understand, truly.  But Hank is extraordinarily tenacious when he wants to be.”

Alex looked away, conflicting emotions simmering inside him.  “But Raven’s your sister.  How can you say that when this – _I_ – have the potential to hurt her?  To break them up?”

“ _That_ is something that I really should leave to Hank to reveal,” he said, shrugging apologetically.  “But, I honestly think that it was pure infatuation on both of their parts.  And infatuation isn’t the same as love.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Charles said, stepping closer so Alex could see the earnestness clearly in his eyes, “That everyone has their faults, and sometimes they need to be forgiven.  And from what little Erik has told me about you, I think you’d understand that more than anybody.”

Alex released a shuddering breath, his heart clenching.  This was too much information at once.  He was finally getting some insight to Hank’s decisions and he wasn’t even sure he even wanted to be privy to Hank’s reasoning anymore.  It confused him.  _Charles_ confused him, _Hank_ confused him, this whole fucking _situation_ confused him.  He felt a firm grip on his shoulder and looked up, meeting Charles’ eyes.  They were silent for several moments before Alex finally spoke, “How can I forgive him?  Trust that he won’t do the same to me as he’s done to Raven?”

He chuckled softly, “It’ll be easier than you think, Alex.  And I’m absolutely positive that once Hank has happiness, he will do his utmost to ensure yours.”

~*+=

Alex did his best to ignore Hank unless it was absolutely necessary; he even made it a point to never be alone with the man.  It didn’t help that his and Charles’ conversation kept replaying in his head, and he _didn’t know what to make of it_.

Why would Charles be pushing him to forgive Hank, possibly even start a relationship with him again, when he was Raven’s sister?  Why wasn’t he _furious_ at Alex?  How could he condone adultery?

He was missing a vital piece of information, he was sure of it, and on top of that, Hank always looked like he had something else to say.  But Alex would cut him off with work related issues before he could bring it up and he’d immediately leave the room if he was in danger of them being alone together.  Because his mind was a boggled mess and he didn’t understand anything.

However, he could only avoid Hank so much, and Alex was finally cornered in the labs after nearly a month.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying to sound intimidating.

“Raven and I divorced and my parents disowned me,” Hank said in a rush, as if he was never going to get another chance.  Well, maybe he wouldn’t with how much Alex had been trying to evade him.  But still, Hank’s news hit him like a ton of bricks.

“What?” he asked shocked.  Was this what Charles had eluded to?

Hank seemed to gain more confidence with Alex’s confusion.  “I finally told my parents that I’m bisexual; they didn’t take it well.”

“That’s an understatement if they _disowned_ you,” Alex quipped, still tense.

Hank managed to laugh nervously.  “Yeah, well,” he shrugged helplessly.  “I married Raven to please my parents,” he continued.  “And I did love her, for a while.  But then you came along and you were just so fascinating, so vibrant.  I couldn’t ignore what I felt about you.  That’s why . . .” he trailed off.

“You wanted to fuck me on the side,” Alex said, voice hardening.

“I – yes,” Hank admitted.  “I just – I’ve missed you and I wanted to say that I love – ”

“Don’t you dare,” Alex hissed.  “Don’t you _dare_ say that to me.”  He didn’t think he’d be able to contain himself if he heard Hank say those elusive words he had longed to hear for so long.

Hank shifted, eyes downcast, shoulders taunt.  “But it’s the truth.”

“My heart’s been broken more times than I care to count, McCoy.  By _you_.  Every fucking time you told me you had to go back to her, when you refused to _explain_ yourself.  I’m not about to risk it again.”

“She cheated on me,” Hank blurted, and Alex managed to hide his flinch, but he continued to stare at him silently.  “With this . . . Russian guy.  I don’t know his name.”

Alex still didn’t say anything, gaining more resolve by the second and Hank started to fidget uncomfortably.  It was almost ironic that both Raven and Hank had committed adultery.  Ridiculous and completely stupid, really.  “Did it hurt?” he asked finally.  “Her betrayal?”

Hank bit his lip, “Yes.  Yes it did.”

The blond nodded, “Good.”  He stepped around Hank, “I’m done here.”

“Wait, what?”  Hank grabbed his upper arm before Alex could move away.  “That’s it?” he asked, eyes wide and desperate.

“What did you expect, McCoy?” he said coldly.  “That I’d come running back to you once you asked for forgiveness?  It doesn’t work that way.”  Alex wrenched his arm out of Hank’s grip.

“You still love me,” Hank said with confidence.  “I know it.”

Anger sparked inside him and he was _this_ close to sucker punching this _infuriating_ man.  “Why does that even matter?” he snapped.  “It didn’t matter then and it sure as hell doesn’t matter now!”

“It does!” Hank cried.  “It does and I’m sorry, Alex.  _Please_.”

As much as he wanted to believe him, Alex steeled himself and managed to spit out, “No,” before fleeing.  No matter what Charles said, he still couldn’t do it.  Not yet.

He left the facility early and drove home, disregarding the speed limit.  Alex paced his living room, agitated.  How can Hank say all of that after Alex had been through _so much_ and expect everything to be okay?

Fine, fantastic that he had finally divorced Raven but would he have done it if she hadn’t cheated?  Which, really, is absolutely fucking ironic because _Hank_ had cheated on her first and, as far as Alex knew, she still didn’t know.  Why hadn’t he done it sooner if he claimed that he loved him?

Answer: Hank’s parents.

He had said that they disowned him.  It was likely because they were homophobic fucktards who couldn’t handle the fact that their genius son was screwing guys instead of being ‘normal’.  Fine, that must have been a huge blow for Hank and even if they were jerks for not accepting Hank for who he was, they were his _parents_ who were supposed to love and support him.  But hadn’t Charles said something about them always pushing Hank for more, in spite of Hank’s own feelings?  And he had known from before that Hank was emotionally neglected as a child.

He’d said that he married Raven to please his parents; Charles had said something about that, too.  Regardless, it took a lot of courage (which Hank apparently lacked a year ago) to risk losing his family.  It made Alex grateful that the only family he had left took his homosexuality in stride and almost made him feel pity – no, pity implied degradation.  _Sympathy_ – for Hank.

But he couldn’t – _refused_ – to feel sympathy, because that would release the floodgates on his emotions and he wouldn’t have the strength to deny him.  His heart had both soared and shattered when Hank had said the word ‘love’, but he had panicked and cut him off before he could finish the phrase.  So he lashed out, which was his usual coping mechanism.

He hadn’t wanted to believe Charles’ words, but now it seemed like the truth was staring Alex right in the face.  But what was he going to do about it?

Despite his own beliefs on forgiveness, Alex simply couldn’t do it, and damn him if he let Hank back in after he had _hurt_ for so long.  His mood swings were unpredictable; one moment he’d be coldly dismissive, the next moment passionately angry, then suddenly numb and indifferent.  Alex hated emotional rollercoasters; he’d much rather not have to deal with possible breakdowns every few minutes, thanks.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Scott’s number, sitting heavily on his couch.

“Alex?  You haven’t called in awhile.”

“Hank’s here,” he said as way of explanation.

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other side.  “For how long?”

“He’s been here for about a month.  Erik says I have to deal with it for another five,” his voice was shaky.  Dammit.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m not, that’s the whole point.  I mean, _fuck_ , I thought I’d never have to deal with this again.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Scott said honestly.

“Fuck, I don’t either!”  He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.  “His parents disowned him, he divorced Raven, and he was about to say that he loves me.  How the hell am I supposed to swallow all of that all at once?  Hell, even his _brother-in-law_ talked to me about forgiving him.  But I can’t, Scott.  I just can’t.”

“His brother-in-law?”

“Charles, Erik’s partner.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Fuck if I know,” he sighed.  “Though he said some shit about Hank never knowing what it was like to take happiness for himself because his parents were demanding, stuck up assholes.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other line.  “Only you, Alex.”  Then Scott sobered again, “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know.”

“And you still love him,” Scott said; it was more of a statement than a question because Scott _knew_ the answer.

“I do,” Alex replied weakly.

“You may not be able to forgive him, maybe not yet, but you could try.”  Alex made a noise of rejection but Scott continued, “Jean and I wouldn’t still be together if she hadn’t given me another chance.”

“Your situation was different.”  Though Alex knew that his excuse was incredibly flimsy.

“How was it different?” Scott asked calmly, though it had a bit of an edge to it, a challenge.

“Your relationship was already established.”

“That’s hardly a reason, Alex.”

“Yeah it is,” he said defiantly, childishly.

“No, it isn’t,” Scott sighed, knowing that Alex was refuting him just because he could.  “Jean and I still loved each other and that’s why she was willing to forgive and I was more than willing to prove my love, to get her to trust me again.  She deserves better, and I know that, and that’s why I cherish her more now.  You and Hank love each other and if you give him a chance, it could very well make your relationship stronger in spite of the betrayal.”

“I don’t know how she could do it,” Alex admitted.  “I’m terrified, I don’t have the courage.  I just – I don’t want to be hurt again.”

There was a short pause before Scott said, “Do you want to talk to Jean about it?”

“What?” he startled.  “God, no!”

“She’d have better advice than me in this respect.”

“Shit, I know, but _no_.  I don’t think I could handle talking to her about this,” he confessed.

“All right,” Scott conceded.  “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he asked, changing the subject.  “Isn’t it three o’clock there?”

“I left,” he said, a bit sheepish.  “I couldn’t stay.”

Scott chuckled.  “Of course.”

Silence settled then Alex said, “Thank you.  For listening to me.”

“Always, Alex.  Always.”

~*+=

Alex mulled over Scott’s, Charles’, and Hank’s words over the next few weeks while still trying to avoid the brunet scientist; he had somehow managed to develop a sort of sixth sense to the biochemist’s presence.  He wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed by it or not.  Did he know because he wanted to see him or because he wanted to run?  Alex still felt a strong magnetism towards Hank, but he was resisting as much as he could.

Hank didn’t corner him again, but Alex could see a fierce determination in those blue eyes and it made him shiver each time he met Hank’s gaze.  He could feel his resolve fraying, and Alex threw himself into his work, barely eating or sleeping, rarely going home.  The disparity between his two distinct desires was taking a toll on him and he didn’t know what to do.

He was at his limit nearly two months after his encounter with Hank until he finally decided to take a short leave of absence.  Alex had been so focused on work that he hadn’t realized that he had done everything important that needed to be done for the next month and a half.  Which meant he’d have nothing to distract him from his whirling thoughts.

So he went home, exhausted, and collapsed into bed, succumbing to slumber almost immediately.  He didn’t know how long he slept, but was awoken by a tentative knock on the door.  Groaning, he sluggishly made his way to the foyer and opened the door without even thinking about asking who it was (why would he?).

It was Hank.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he blurted, suddenly wide-awake.

“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” Hank said.  “And to talk to you.”

“I’m fine.  Why wouldn’t I be?  Now go away,” he said petulantly and tried to close the door, but Hank pushed forward and Alex was forced to back up.

“You’re not fine.”  Hank looked him up and down, and Alex suddenly felt self-conscious; he hadn’t changed out of his work clothes and he probably looked frumpy and disheveled.

“What do you know, McCoy?” he growled, feeling like a cornered cat, prickly and cautious.

“Enough,” he replied calmly.

“Oh, fucking hell!  You annoy and confuse me so damned much!” he cried.

“I know that I’ve caused you to do this to yourself, though inadvertently,” Hank continued, ignoring Alex’s outburst.

“And what are you going to do about it?” he snapped.  “Neither of us can leave, not until Erik tells us the project is on solid ground again.”

“I want to help you.”

“Fuck you, McCoy, I was getting along perfectly before you came back into my life and goddamn you for bringing all the emotions back.”

“I’ve been talking to Charles,” he said suddenly, and Alex’s breath hitched.

“You what?”

“He said that he spoke to you before he left,” he continued.  “What did he say?”

The blond narrowed his eyes, “He didn’t tell you?”

Hank shook his head, “He told me to talk to you, said that we should work this out on our own.”

Alex snorted, “God fucking dammit.  What the bloody hell is he thinking?”  He sighed then abruptly turned and stalked to his couch flopping down and running a jerky hand through his hair.  Hank followed.  “Do you know how fucking _awkward_ it is to have your brother-in-law talk to me about your relationship?”

Hank gave him a weak smile, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, not crowding him but close enough for either of them to reach over and touch, if they so wanted.  “I can only imagine.”

Alex’s fingers tapped an erratic rhythm on the armrest, his thoughts a confused jumble.  “Why should I believe you?”

The brunet nibbled his bottom lip and Alex had to consciously avert his eyes.  “I don’t know,” he finally said.

He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re being honest, at least.”

“I – ” Hank’s gaze fell to his lap.  “I’m trying.”

“Trying what?”

“To be more honest.  With myself and with others.”

Alex eyed him speculatively, warily.  “Why?”

“I love you.”

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and clenched his jaw.  “I told you not to say that.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You have before,” he shot back.

Hank shifted, “I know.  I’m sorry.  I just – ”

“Just _what_?” he asked, defensively.  “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through these past couple years?”  His voice was deceptively calm, but he could feel the pent up anger and pain and desperation boiling under the surface.

Hank opened his mouth to reply, but Alex cut him off.  “Of course you don’t.  You have no idea what it’s like to lose control, to love and be so damn afraid of it being ripped away.”  His voice started rise, and practically growled his next sentence.  “You may not have had a perfect family but it was a damn better situation than mine was.

“Charles told me that you never knew how to put your own happiness before others.  Is it true?”  He knew he was being cruel, but dammit, a part of him needed to hear it from Hank, wanted to strike back at Hank where it would hurt most.

“Yes,” Hank said.  “It’s true.”

“What changed?”

“You,” he said simply.  “You intrigued me.  You’re handsome, smart, defiant, and passionate.”  A light blush emerged on Hank’s cheeks and Alex’s heart jumped at the sight.  “And I was terrified.  What I felt for you, I’ve never felt for anyone else, not even Raven. It scared me.  I was naïve to think that you’d stay with me no matter what and I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“I was afraid what my parents would think of me; I’d tried so hard for them to accept me, to appreciate me.  Sure, they liked the fact that I was smart, but nothing seemed enough for them.  I knew they wouldn’t be keen on me loving another man.  So I hid who I was and tried to suppress my feelings for you.  It didn’t work, and it was a terrible time for me, too.”

“Yet you consciously continued to hurt me.  Even that night when I – ” he stammered, “ – told you how I felt, you didn’t say anything.”

“I wanted to.  I really did.”

Alex let out a long-suffering sigh.  “Maybe neither of us deserves happiness.”

“Don’t say that,” Hank said forcefully, and Alex gave him a weak smile.

“So much has happened, Hank.  I don’t think this – whatever this is – is even reparable.”  Alex felt oddly subdued.  It surprised him how calmly he was handling the situation.

“You don’t want to try?”  There was a glimmer of . . . _something_ in Hank’s eyes, but Alex couldn’t quite place it.

“How can I trust you after everything?” he asked, avoiding the question.

“I don’t know, Alex.  But I’m willing to try.”  Hank reached over and took Alex’s hand in his, and Alex had to resist jerking away; he hadn’t touched Hank in so long that feeling his warmth again was jarring.  He stared at their entwined fingers, bemused and conflicted.

“I still don’t understand you,” he finally said.

Hank smiled, small and hopeful.  “Maybe you will, eventually.”

He almost liked the sound of that, but Alex sighed and disentangled his hand from Hank’s, standing.  He glanced at the clock and said, “It’s late.  I can’t do this right now.  Sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m going back to bed.”

Hank stood as well, looking a bit disappointed, but he nodded in acquiescence.  “All right.”

Alex made his way back to the bedroom without a word and dug around for extra blankets and pillows before heading back to the living area.  Alex tossed the bedding on the couch and managed to meet Hank’s gaze without flinching.

“Good night, Alex.”  Hank sounded so sincere, and he was _in his apartment_ , and dammit why did he think this was a good idea?

He pursed his lips and muttered, “’Night.”

When his bedroom door clicked closed, Alex let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  He leaned against the door and let his head fall back with a thud.  His eyes closed in resignation, defeat; he was so tired.  Long moments passed before Alex finally hefted himself forward and stripped to his boxers, tossing his clothes haphazardly.  Alex settled under the covers and stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, but he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.  The following morning, soothing fingers running through his hair roused him and he buried deeper into the blankets, letting out a hum of contentment.  He heard a soft chuckle, but the petting didn’t stop and Alex dozed for a few more minutes.

Finally, Alex blearily blinked sleep out of his eyes and was met with a serene looking Hank McCoy, eyes bright and clear, a soft smile on his lips.  He was sitting on the edge of the bed, arm extended to gently stroke Alex’s hair.

“I can’t believe I denied myself this for so long.”

“Yeah, well, just ‘cause you’re a genius doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot, too,” Alex said groggily.

Hank’s smile widened marginally, “I suppose I deserved that.”

Alex grunted, rubbing the sand out of his eyes and sighing.  Last night had been . . . overwhelming.  He wasn’t even sure what he ought to believe anymore.

“I’ve made a decision,” Hank said, removing his hand from Alex’s head.

Alex sighed, “What’s that?”

“I want to regain your trust.”

The blond blinked in surprise, eyes wide in disbelief.  “What?”

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m willing to try for however long it takes.  I want this – us – to work.”

“Hank – ” he paused and bit his lip.  How the hell was he supposed to respond to that?  “You’ve grown more confident,” was what he ended up saying.

The brunet let out a quiet laugh.  “That’s good, right?”  Hank swung his legs onto the bed and lay down next to Alex, a hand resting gently on Alex’s hip.  “I love you.”  A shudder ran through Alex and he ducked his head further into the pillows, speechless and terrified.  Alex felt fingers dance across the nape of his neck, under his ear, tracing his jawline.  He leaned into the touch unconsciously, and Hank lifted his chin gently so they could look each other in the eye; Alex found himself drowning in those blue irises all over again.

“You’re serious,” he said softly, more of a statement than a question.

“I am.”  Hank ghosted his fingers up to his cheekbones and back down to his neck.  And when Hank leaned in for a kiss, he didn’t resist, but he also didn’t return it; it was incredibly reminiscent to one of the first kisses they shared nearly two years before.

“Please, at least let me try,” Hank breathed against Alex’s lips.

Alex didn’t answer, still conflicted.  He wanted to, he really did, but he was afraid.  He couldn’t simply forget the past two years and all the heartbreak Hank had put him through.  How could he?  Maybe in time he could forgive but . . .

“My life may not have been as difficult as yours,” Hank suddenly said, “But I had my own hardships I had to deal with.  My parents, my intellect . . .  I envied you for being so strong, for being able to stand up for yourself and what you believe in.”

“I’m not strong,” Alex mumbled.  “Look at me now.”

“You are,” Hank said forcefully.  “I just put you through a shit time.”

Alex’s lip twitched in weak amusement, “Did you just swear?”

A smile and a light blush (which Alex still thought adorable and tried his already weak resolve), “I did.”

Alex leaned forward, rested his forehead against Hank’s, their breaths intermingling.  “I’m scared,” he admitted.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.  ‘Cause I am, too.”

“Why?”

“Of losing you.  Of making a mistake.  Of not being able to convince you.”

“You’re really sure about this, aren’t you?” Alex whispered.

“Yes.”

What could Alex do?  He could push Hank away and reject what he’d been longing for so long or he could give in and fall willingly into Hank’s warmth.  But he was _so tired_ of fighting; wouldn’t it be easier succumb to what he so desperately wanted?

Alex extricated an arm from the sheets and rested a tentative hand at the nape of Hank’s neck.  He played with the strands of hair, earning him a shuddering breath from Hank’s lush lips, so close to his.

He still wanted Hank, so much.  He wanted to touch and not be afraid of the repercussions.  He wanted to feel Hank’s warmth next to him when he woke up.  He wanted to be happy without doubt hanging in the back of his mid.  He wanted to love without regrets.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Yeah?” Hank asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” he replied with a small smile, and Alex leaned forward to press his lips against Hank’s.  The brunet returned the kiss gently and Alex, in spite of everything, through all his doubt and fears, finally felt _right_.

Their relationship was far from perfect, he knew, but then again, which relationship was?  And if Hank was willing to try, then Alex was, too.

Maybe Scott was right; if forgiveness was the first step, then maybe Alex would be able to have more than just a little bit of happiness.  If Hank was there beside him every step of the way, maybe he could learn to trust again.

And he thought that maybe, just maybe, that he could let himself believe.

~*+=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not write an alternate (more angsty) ending to this. But we'll see.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net and wordpress.com from December 02, 2012 to December 20, 2012


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